Deadly Melody

by Connie Mann

  She launched into a second piece, then a third and fourth, and still, no one’s face stood out, nobody who watched from the edges of the crowd triggered her memory.

  But someone was watching. She could feel it along the back of her neck.

  Come on, you coward. Show yourself.

  She played for another fifteen minutes, then stopped and nodded at the applause that followed.

  A flash went off, and she blinked, then saw Avery Ames lower her camera.

  She took a deep breath, locked her knees when they wanted to collapse. It was done. One way or another, they’d know where she was.

  Cat carefully put her violin away and climbed into her car.

  She didn’t see anyone follow her, but she was sure they were there.

  Be strong, Blaze. I’ll be there soon.

  Chapter 17

  Nick pulled up in front of the Winstons’ brick home and sat for a moment, studying the immaculate house and yard, the quiet street with its well-maintained homes. Teddy’s father worked for a defense contractor in Ocala, which was a pretty significant commute. But it looked like he made decent money. Mrs. Winston was very involved with charity work in the community. People had nothing but good things to say about the whole family.

  How did he tell them that their son had been murdered?

  He climbed out of his SUV and started up the walk. The door swung open before he could knock, and he realized Mrs. Winston had been watching him through the living room window.

  “Officer Stanton, please come in. Do you have news?” She wore a pretty floral dress and heels, as though she were ready to go out, but grief was evident in the lines on her face and the dark circles under her eyes.

  Nick stepped over the threshold and indicated the formal living room. “Why don’t we sit down.”

  Her husband appeared from the rear of the house.

  “I’m sorry you came all the way home from work, sir,” Nick said. “I could have given you an update over the phone.”

  Mr. Winston put a protective arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I’m exactly where I need to be. Thank you for coming in person.”

  Nick sat down on a chair across from them. This part was almost as hard as telling them their son was dead had been. “The coroner has determined that Teddy died of a heart attack.”

  There was a moment of shocked silence. “But he didn’t have a heart condition,” Mrs. Winston cried.

  “No, he didn’t. There was no evidence of heart problems or any other medical condition that might have caused Teddy’s death.”

  Mr. Winston patted his wife’s shoulder as she sniffled into a handkerchief. “Then what happened? This doesn’t make sense.”

  Before Nick could answer, a knock sounded on the front door. Mrs. Winston murmured, “Excuse me,” and went to answer it.

  She returned with Cat in tow.

  Nick stood, studied her. “What are you doing here?” She looked tired, and wary, and the dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced. But she clearly had come with an agenda.

  She glanced at him, then turned her attention to the Winstons. “Mr. and Mrs. Winston, I’m so sorry to intrude. I wanted to offer my sincere condolences on the loss of your son.”

  He decided to let her talk, give her a bit of leeway before he stepped in.

  “I’m sorry, but why are you here? You said you were with Officer Stanton.”

  “I’m one of the Martinelli girls. I came home for Eve’s wedding.”

  Recognition dawned. “You’re the one who played the violin so beautifully,” Mrs. Winston said.

  “Thank you. Yes.” She paused, and Nick saw her choose her words with care. “We are, ah, having a bit of an issue locating Blaze and wondered if perhaps you’d seen her? Or might know where she could have gone?”

  “Are you saying she’s run away?” Mrs. Winston looked worried. “But why? The funeral is tomorrow. I know she wouldn’t miss it.”

  “We’re not sure of anything right now,” Nick added. “Just checking out all the possibilities. Any idea where she might have gone? I know she and Teddy were friends. Are there any special places they went together?”

  Mr. Winston said no, but Mrs. Winston nervously twisted that handkerchief again. He met her eyes, waited. “Ma’am? Anything you can tell us might help. We just want to be sure she’s OK.”

  She glanced at her husband, then back at Nick. “The kids like to hang out by the quarry. They think we don’t know, but I did.”

  Her husband speared her with a glance. “Why didn’t I know about that? It’s dangerous.”

  She shrugged. “They used to go there a lot. Maybe she went out there, to be where he-he . . .” She swallowed.

  Nick kept his voice low. “I was just there, and I didn’t see any sign of her. No other place comes to mind?”

  Mrs. Winston shook her head.

  Her husband stood, propped his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry to sound unfeeling, but I want to know what happened to Teddy.”

  Nick cleared his throat. “Right. I had the coroner run a special test, and it confirmed that your son died from an overdose of scopolamine.”

  “No. Teddy would never have done something like that . . . on”—Mrs. Winston cleared her throat—“on purpose.” She toyed with the lacy handkerchief, smoothing it out, over and over. “He was excited about going to college, said he had his eye on a girl here, everything was going so well for him . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “What is scopolamine?” Mr. Winston demanded. “How did he get it? Why would he have taken it?”

  Nick held up a hand. “The drug is from South America and is also called Devil’s Breath or the zombie drug. In small doses, it robs a person of their free will, and criminals sometimes use it to get people to hand over money, et cetera.”

  “But Teddy didn’t have any money.”

  “If the dose is too large, it can cause a heart attack.”

  A beat of silence. Then Mr. Winston jabbed an accusing finger toward Nick. “You’re saying someone poisoned our son! That he was murdered.”

  “I’m saying we are treating this as a suspicious death. Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Teddy?”

  The parents looked at each other, both wearing identical horrified expressions. “No, he was well liked, had good friends.”

  “Can you run me through his last day?”

  Mrs. Winston gripped the handkerchief as though to keep her hands from shaking. “It was a pretty typical Saturday. He slept until eleven and then played some video games before he reluctantly did a few chores. Then he got cleaned up—he looked so nice—to go pick up Blaze for Eve’s wedding. We arrived shortly afterward. He stayed at the wedding longer than we did, but everything seemed fine when we left.” She sent Nick a sad smile. “He said he was going to ask Blaze to dance.” She sniffed. “That was the last time we saw him.”

  “Did he text you or call that night? I’m trying to set up a timeline.”

  “No, nothing.”

  Nick thanked them both and ushered Cat out the door. As soon as they were out of earshot, he turned to her, voice low. “Tell me the real reason you’re here.”

  There went that Martinelli chin. The sisters weren’t related by blood, but the same stubborn streak ran straight through all of them. “I’m looking for Blaze, like I said.” Worry shone from her dark eyes. “He was really murdered with scopolamine?”

  “Yes. Just like your friend.” He narrowed his eyes, looking for a reaction. “Right after you arrived in town.”

  “You know I had nothing to do with his death!” Her eyes spit fire, but he saw something else in them, too.

  He leaned in until they were nose to nose. “Then tell me who did.”

  As they stared each other down, Cat’s cell phone rang. She stepped away, but he could still hear her part of the conversation.

  “Hello? What’s wrong, Sash? . . . Did he leave a name?” Nick watched as all the color drained out of her face. “OK, I’ll head
that way . . . No, I won’t do anything stupid, geez . . . OK, I’ll call you later.”

  She hung up. “I have to go.”

  When she drove away, much too fast, he hopped into his SUV and followed. Something was definitely up.

  Cat forced herself to slow down. Now wasn’t the time for another encounter with Safe Harbor’s finest. She swallowed hard. Her uncle or Garcia had found her. Already. They’d even had the audacity to call the marina. Well, maybe that part wasn’t too surprising. They wouldn’t know her cell phone number but would assume someone at the house had it.

  The man wouldn’t leave a name, Sasha said, just that he’d heard they were looking for Blaze and had information for Cat. She should meet him at 416 Hammer Drive in the next thirty minutes.

  Cat had plugged the address into her phone app. If she remembered right, that far out of Safe Harbor, there was nothing but scrub palm and pastureland. Why there?

  She gripped the wheel tighter, heart pounding, and scanned the surrounding area when her map app said she had reached her destination. Where was it? At the last second, she spotted a rusting mailbox, half-buried under vines. She turned into the driveway. Grass and bushes scraped the sides of her car as she drove down the overgrown track. The only indication this was the right place was the flattened grass that said another car had recently passed this way.

  The track opened onto a small gravel parking area in front of an abandoned cottage. The porch sagged and was missing half its boards. The windows were boarded up, and the tin roof had rusted with time.

  Where was the other car? Had it left? Or pulled around back?

  Cat hesitated, hand slippery on the door handle. Would whoever had called shoot her on sight? Or would they give her a chance to offer herself for Blaze? She swallowed hard. Moment of truth.

  “God, help me do the right thing,” she breathed, then climbed out of the car and looked around, hands on her hips, projecting a confidence she didn’t feel.

  “Hello? Is anyone here?” She scanned the area, braced herself, expecting the pain of a bullet, but nothing happened. Cicadas chirped and a breeze ruffled the grasses, but other than that, nothing.

  Suddenly, a black SUV with tinted windows appeared in the driveway and pulled in behind her car, effectively blocking her escape.

  The driver’s door opened, and an impeccably dressed man stepped out. His black hair had some gray in it now, and his black suit coat still didn’t cover the holster he wore under his arm, but his dark eyes never missed a thing. “This way, Miss Catharine.” Phillip Chen held open the rear door, as though he’d driven her to school only yesterday.

  The entire scene felt surreal. After she’d been hiding for fourteen years, her uncle had found her.

  He would not have been able to get here from Miami this quickly. Which meant he had already been in town, already knew where she was. She forced her fear behind her. She couldn’t let it show.

  Dear Jesus, had he killed Teddy? Why?

  Cat nodded and stepped toward the car, determined to play the charade out to the end. “Thank you, Phillip,” she said as she climbed into the rich leather interior.

  She waited for her eyes to adjust, then met Richard Wang’s piercing black gaze. “Hello, Uncle.”

  Chapter 18

  “Hello, Catharine. You look well. If a bit thin.”

  Like Phillip, there were subtle signs of the passing years, the gray at his temples, the ever-so-slight paunch around his middle, a bit of a sag in the smooth Asian skin.

  He studied her. “Your mother would be heartbroken if she knew how you are squandering your musical gift.”

  Everything inside Cat stilled. Did he mean in general? Or did he know where she worked?

  Cat decided it didn’t matter. She needed information. Still, there were certain social mores and rules to follow. “As every good child, I endeavor to make her proud.”

  His eyes narrowed, no doubt searching for sarcasm. “Someone with your talent should be gracing the stage with the preeminent symphonies. It is what you were trained to do.”

  “And I am very grateful for the training that I was given, Uncle.”

  “You look more like her every day,” he said, voice quiet.

  Cat looked into his eyes and saw deep emotion that went far beyond that of a standard brother-in-law. “She was a beautiful, talented woman. My father loved her.”

  “He didn’t deserve her,” he bit out, then waved the words away. “You should not have run, Catharine.”

  She ignored his statement. She would not think about Daniel now. Not when Blaze’s life hung in the balance. “Where is Blaze?”

  “I do not have her.”

  “What do you mean? Isn’t that why you called me here?”

  “I’m here to protect you.”

  Cat almost snorted but caught herself in time. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep accusations from exploding out of her. Instead, she kept her hands folded demurely in her lap and waited for him to continue. Breaches of etiquette had never been tolerated when she’d lived with him.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “Please, just tell me the truth, Uncle. Where is she?” Cat forced the words out. “I will happily offer myself in trade, if that’s what you require.”

  He studied her for several moments. “Who is this Blaze that you would sacrifice your life for hers so easily?”

  “She is family.” The words burst out before she realized what she was saying.

  Her uncle stiffened, and Cat could see him work to bring his anger under control. When he spoke, his voice was like ice. “I am your family, Catharine. I came to bring you back to Miami where you belong. To restore you to the life you were born to live.”

  Cat didn’t believe a single word of that. Not after Daniel. “If you don’t have Blaze, then where is she?”

  He made a tsking sound. “Still so impatient, Catharine. Nothing good comes from rushing into things without careful thought.”

  Her skin itched with frustration, but she waited for him to speak, as she’d been taught. If he didn’t have Blaze, then Garcia did, and Cat had to find her, fast. She’d need her uncle’s help.

  After what seemed like hours, he tapped his fingers on the armrest as though coming to some conclusion. “I believe Garcia is in town. Phillip has spotted some of the cretins he employs.” He paused, looked her in the eye. “Daniel Habersham’s family has hired another private investigator, and I hear he is looking for answers, for names to give to the police.” Cat forced all emotion from her face as she waited for her uncle to continue. Her situation had just gotten a whole lot more precarious. No way would her uncle or Garcia want her talking about Daniel to anyone.

  Finally he said, “I will find this Blaze and help you secure her release.” Surprised, Cat started to thank him, but he interrupted. “There is one condition. You will promise to return to Miami afterward.” His eyes were hard when they met hers. “You have an outstanding obligation to fulfill.”

  “You mean you have an outstanding obligation.” The second the words popped out, she wanted to call them back.

  Her uncle’s whole body seemed to tighten with anger, but his voice was mild. “Garcia thought you were dead, all these years.” He watched her, gauging her reaction.

  Cat carefully schooled her features. “Why did he think that?”

  “I sent him a photo of your burned corpse.”

  Oh, dear heaven. Did that mean someone else had died because of her? How would Garcia react now that he knew she was still alive?

  His eyes flashed. “I bought you fourteen years to do as you pleased, Catharine. Now it is time to return to your family and repay your debt.”

  A cold chill started in her heart and spread throughout her body. Her mouth went dry at the thought of Garcia and his mean eyes, beefy hands, and twisted mind. She couldn’t lose her nerve now. “I want your solemn vow that you will protect my family.”

  “I have always protected you, Catharine. I promised your mother. I
will never go back on that promise.”

  She clenched her fists, her expression fierce. “That’s not good enough, Uncle. You’ll give me your word that you’ll protect the entire Martinelli family, no matter what, or there’s no deal.”

  The silence lengthened. He studied her for a long moment, then inclined his head. “You have my word.”

  Would he keep it? Cat couldn’t be sure, but she had no choice. She had to take the offer. She swallowed hard and nodded, sealing her fate. She had been prepared to die today. She hadn’t been prepared to become Garcia’s slave.

  “What happens now?” she asked.

  “I will find the girl. See what you can learn from the cop that keeps sniffing around but do not tell him anything. Unless you want to see him dead, you will keep him out of this.”

  The threat turned her insides to ice, but she kept her voice calm, almost indifferent. “Nick has a mind of his own and a nose like a bloodhound. I’ll do my best, but he already knows Blaze is missing.”

  “Then use him. Stay close to him, get whatever information you can.”

  She started to climb out of the SUV.

  “There is no going back.” His voice was hard, implacable.

  She swallowed and nodded. For Blaze, she would do whatever it took. “I won’t.”

  Cat stepped out and waited until the big SUV disappeared before she sagged against the side of her car. Her mind spun. Her uncle was here, had been here, but, if he was telling the truth, he wasn’t the one who had taken Blaze.

  Which meant Garcia had her. The man’s absolute indifference to Daniel’s long-ago death made her shiver, despite the heat.

  She rubbed her hands over her arms, tried to think. She’d make sure her uncle got Blaze released. But she had no intention of meekly turning herself over to Garcia. Not without an escape plan.

  But before she could formulate one, someone grabbed her arm and spun her around. She lashed out to protect herself, but he stopped her hand before it connected with his throat.

  Nick held her still, fury in every line of his body. There was a tear in his sleeve that hadn’t been there before, and he had a bruise forming on his cheek and dirt on his pants.