“Sit,” Kendrick said, laying his fingers over the revolver. After Richard complied, the art dealer lifted his hand and continued talking. “Because we don’t know anything for certain, and…” He took a deep breath. “Sorry, that’s all I can share right now. But suffice it to say I took Reese in after Rachel’s murder because I knew it was best for him to remain out of sight. At least until certain other measures were put into play.”
“What about Lila?” I asked.
Reese banged his fist into his palm. “I’ve been trying to convince her to join me here, but she’s been too concerned about that stupid boy…”
“We know she’s possibly in danger,” Kendrick said. “And as Reese mentioned, we have been in contact with her. Until recently, that is. Lately she hasn’t responded to calls or texts.”
“You don’t know where she is?” I shared a worried glance with Richard. If some criminal organization had had Rachel killed with so little provocation, whether by using Reese or by hiring some hit man, Lila was in danger too.
“No, not for the last three days.” Reese’s tone shifted from agonized to angry. “And Kurt here won’t allow me out of the house to look for her.”
“Despite which, you did manage to slip out last night and go heaven knows where. A great mistake, although apparently no one followed you. But no more. It isn’t safe.” Kendrick shot the artist a look under lowered eyelids. We agreed,” he added in a tone that seemed to convey a warning.
“I didn’t agree to that.” Reese’s voice cracked on the last word.
Kendrick waved him aside with one hand. “Yes, you did.”
“But Lila is still out there somewhere, and your efforts to find her don’t seem to be accomplishing anything.” Reese clenched and unclenched his fingers as he blinked rapidly.
He reminded me of someone. When I realized who, I sucked in a quick breath. He looked as wild-eyed as Caden when the young musician had held a knife to Sunny’s throat. I swallowed the lump that had risen in my throat. I wasn’t convinced that Reese was innocent at this point, and if he’d already killed his own wife, he’d probably have no compunction about murdering strangers. “Richard,” I said in a low voice, “this might go off the rails.”
Before he could respond, Hugh posed another question. “So you’re saying that you’re protecting Reese from the Quinns? But why not just turn him over to the authorities? Since you say you can prove his innocence, why not make your case with them?”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Kendrick said, just as Reese made a dive for the gun.
The shorter man grabbed the revolver and pointed it—not at us, but at Kendrick. “No more of this messing around. I have to find Lila.”
“Please put that down,” Kendrick said, his voice rock steady.
The artist shook his head and gripped the gun with both hands. “No. I’ve been listening to you and following your advice, and what’s that gotten me? My wife’s dead. I’m not gonna lose my little girl too.”
Kendrick crossed his arms over his chest. “This is foolish, Reese. We had this under control.”
“No, no”—Reese waved the gun about wildly—“you have everything set up to suit your purposes. That’s fine for you, but it doesn’t help Lila. I should’ve figured she wouldn’t mean that much to you. She’s acceptable collateral damage.”
I blinked as I attempted to get a grip on my thoughts. Reese sounded sincere in his desire to find and protect his daughter, but there was still that life insurance policy …
Reese and Lila could’ve even been in on it together. I winced at this thought but had to admit the possibility. People had done far worse things for money.
“That is simply not true. I would never put Lila in jeopardy.” Kendrick fixed Reese with his intimidating stare. “And our plans…”
“Mean nothing without Lila. I trusted you to find her and bring her here, and you failed. Now all this talk about Rachel has made me realize the danger my daughter is in. I can’t allow Lila to be hurt too. I have to save her.”
Aunt Lydia rose to her feet. “Look here, Mr. LeBlanc. I think perhaps you should put that gun down and do as Kurt says.”
Reese glanced at her but kept the revolver trained on Kendrick. “Don’t move, Mrs. Talbot. And the rest of you—stay where you are,” he added, as Richard, Hugh, and I jumped to our feet. “I have no quarrel with any of you and don’t want to see more innocent people hurt. But I’m quite willing to shoot Kurt if you don’t follow my instructions.”
We all froze in place, our eyes trained on the man holding the gun and his captive.
“Okay, so I’m going to ask Kurt to walk out of the room in front of me. And then we’re leaving the house by the back door, and he’s going to hand over his keys and climb into his fancy sports car with me. When you hear the car pull away and head down the drive, you can leave the house. Not before.” Reese bumped Kendrick with the gun, forcing the older man to turn around. “If I see any of you outside before that black Jag is out the entrance gate, I blast him. Get it?”
A hysterical bubble of laughter trembled on my lips as the irony of the situation hit me. I’d never imagined I’d ever lift a finger to protect Kurt Kendrick. I met my aunt’s determined gaze. No doubt she felt the same, but we both knew we had to do what Reese LeBlanc asked. It was quite possible that the artist was already a murderer, and whatever his faults or past misdeeds, Kendrick was a human being. He didn’t deserve to die.
“All right,” Richard said, reaching for my hand. “We’ll just stand here. Right, Lydia?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Hugh lifted his left arm. “I’ll even time it.” He pointed to his watch. “We’ll give you twenty minutes. That should allow you plenty of time to escape.”
“But what will you do with him?” I asked, as Reese poked the gun into Kendrick’s back and marched him across the room.
“I’ll release him down the road. Somewhere off the beaten track. He can easily walk back,” Reese said as he forced Kendrick into the hall.
Hugh waited until the back door slammed shut before darting forward. “He forgot about the phones.”
“Right,” I said, scooping up a couple of them. I tossed Richard his phone as Aunt Lydia picked up hers. “Who wants to call the authorities?”
“I’ll do it,” Hugh said, his phone at his ear. “I can make it official.”
“I’m afraid Mr. LeBlanc wasn’t thinking quite straight when he came up with this little plan,” Aunt Lydia observed, as Hugh crossed to the doorway to place his call.
“He was frantic over his daughter.” I pocketed my phone. “But you’re right. He may think he can get away, but a black Jaguar is going to be easy to track.”
“Abducting someone isn’t going to help his case much either,” Richard said. “But maybe it will get the authorities to focus on tracking down Lila. I hate to think of her out there with a possible target on her back.”
I shuddered. “International criminals? What next?”
“Now we talk to the deputies again.” Richard wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a close embrace. “It almost feels like we’ve done this before,” he whispered in my ear.
My hysterical laughter burst free at that point.
“Air,” Richard said, guiding me to the door.
“Can’t go out yet. Not twenty minutes,” I muttered, but Richard just kept walking me toward the front door.
“Don’t worry, I never planned to wait that long anyway.” Hugh, who appeared at my other side, offered me an encouraging smile. “I assumed Mr. LeBlanc would reach the end of the lane in a few minutes and that no one could really see much looking back at the house. Especially if they were driving fast.”
“Good thinking.” Richard kept his arm around me as he pulled open the front door.
“Yes, very wise,” Aunt Lydia said.
When I glanced at her, I couldn’t help but notice how she was studying Hugh’s calm face. Maybe there was one more man in th
e world that she could truly admire.
The sheriff’s department arrived soon after we exited the house. Their sirens shattered the quiet less than ten minutes following Hugh’s call.
“Seems like an excess of people,” Aunt Lydia said as we huddled on the front porch, watching deputies and plainclothes detectives swarm the area. “I would’ve thought most of them would be off chasing Mr. LeBlanc.”
“No, check it out.” Richard pointed at a spot where some leafless shrubs allowed a view of the lower portion of the driveway. “There’s the Jag. Looks like Reese didn’t get too far.”
I squinted and followed the line of his arm. “Yeah, there’s the car. But I don’t see any sign of Kendrick or Reese.”
“Maybe they have Mr. LeBlanc in custody?” Hugh leaned against the balustrade and peered into the screen of foliage.
“Not exactly,” said a familiar voice.
Brad Tucker approached the porch, his hand on the butt of the gun peeking from his holster. “Everyone all right?”
“We’re fine,” I replied. “But what do you mean by ‘not exactly’?”
Resting one foot on the bottom porch step, Brad gazed up at us with weary eyes. “No one was in the car when we got here. I assume something happened that made LeBlanc take off with Mr. Kendrick. Maybe he heard our sirens in the distance or something.”
“That’s odd,” Richard said. “They should’ve cleared the gate and been long gone before they heard you coming.”
Brad shrugged. “Can’t say why. I just know the car was empty, with both doors standing open. I’ve got people searching the woods, and I’m sure we’ll locate them soon. In the meantime, I need to ask you to stay right here where my deputies can keep an eye on you.”
“We can’t go home?” Aunt Lydia moved closer to the steps.
Brad held up his hand. “Not with an armed fugitive still on the loose. Hell no.” He shoved his hat back and rubbed his forehead. “Sorry for the language, but this has been a crap day already. First the Kroft kid, and now this.”
“What do you mean?” I stepped down to face off with the chief deputy as the memory of a knife-wielding, wild-eyed boy filled my mind. “Did Caden hurt someone?”
Brad sighed. “Okay, I guess you’ll hear soon enough. We found Caden Kroft today in the woods near my family farm.”
“He was hiding there, so close to our homes, all this time?” Aunt Lydia shared a concerned glance with Richard.
“No.” Brad pulled off his hat and held it before his chest like a shield. “I guess I wasn’t clear. We didn’t locate Kroft hiding anywhere. We found his body.”
Chapter Twenty
After being thoroughly questioned by two of Brad’s deputies, we were allowed to leave the estate. Although I was so tired my legs felt like cooked noodles, I knew Aunt Lydia was even more exhausted and volunteered to drive her home, while Hugh rode with Richard.
I rolled down my window as I maneuvered my aunt’s car around several official vehicles and the parked Jaguar, hoping to catch any news about Reese and Kendrick. But all I could discern from the deputies’ chatter was that neither man had been located yet.
Later that evening, after Aunt Lydia and I had collapsed into two of the comfy upholstered chairs in the sitting room, I was startled from a light doze by the doorbell.
I motioned for Aunt Lydia to stay in her chair and ran to answer the bell. As soon as I opened the door, Zelda hurried past me.
Walt pulled off his golfing cap and clutched it in his hands. “Sorry, but Zel insisted.”
“Oh, Amy knows I simply had to check on Lydia after the horrid events of this day.” Zelda waved one hand through the air like a conductor brandishing a baton.
“So you know everything already?” I followed her down the hall with Walt on my heels.
“Of course she does,” he said, only loud enough for me to hear.
“Of course I do.” Zelda sailed into the sitting room, the long tail of her purple-and-mauve tunic fluttering like a flag. “No, no, Lydia. Don’t get up. Poor dear, I’m sure you’re dead on your feet.”
“But not actually dead, for which I am thankful,” my aunt replied with a wry smile.
Zelda glanced around the room before she plopped down onto the suede cushions of the sofa. “Richard isn’t here?”
I crossed over to my recently abandoned chair and sank back into it with a grateful sigh. “No, I sent him home to get some rest. He was exhausted from his trip and has a full day of teaching scheduled for tomorrow. He argued, of course, but he was up against both Aunt Lydia and me, so…” I shrugged.
“Didn’t stand a chance, did he?” Walt grinned as he took a seat next to Zelda.
“Well, that’s sensible.” Zelda glanced over at Aunt Lydia. “And where’s our resident art expert? Still on the case?”
“He’s upstairs resting as well.” Aunt Lydia shot me a warning look. Obviously she didn’t want me to mention that he was also unpacking.
Walt stretched his long legs out over the multicolor rag rug that covered the hardwood floor. “I’m so sorry you all had to deal with this. Seems like you’re always facing guns in the hands of twisted individuals.”
“Yeah, but unlike my cousin Sylvia, Reese LeBlanc is sane. I think so, anyway.” I snuggled deeper into the cushions of my overstuffed armchair. “My theory is that if Reese did kill his wife, his actions were based in greed or fear, not insanity. There was a substantial life insurance policy on Rachel. That’s one strong motive. And if the murder was tangled up with his involvement with some criminal organization—well, maybe they threatened him or Lila if he didn’t silence Rachel. Maybe Lila knows her dad is guilty and has been protecting him anyway. That happens sometimes, when kids don’t want to lose both parents at once, even if they know one killed the other.” I tightened my grip on the arms of the chair. “Or maybe Reese wants to locate Lila because he’s afraid she’ll eventually expose the truth. He has to know that could easily happen without her even intending it, considering her drug use.”
“You think Reese LeBlanc would harm his own child?” Walt asked, raising his eyebrows. “As a father, I can’t imagine such a thing.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so, but who knows? He did seem genuinely concerned about her, but that could’ve been as much of an act as his tears over Rachel. Or not. I really couldn’t tell. One thing that was clear was that Reese definitely seemed desperate to find Lila. In fact”—I drummed my fingers against the soft arm of the chair—“I heard Kurt Kendrick say that Reese left the house last night, even though he’d promised to stay put. Which makes me wonder…”
Aunt Lydia glanced at me. “I heard that as well. It does make me question whether Reese LeBlanc had any contact with Caden Kroft last night.”
Zelda shifted on the sofa, bouncing her blonde curls. “You mean you think he might have killed the poor boy? But we don’t actually know that Reese was responsible for his wife’s death. It could’ve been someone from that criminal group. Anyway, even if Reese did murder Rachel for money or whatever, why kill someone else? Especially with the authorities looking for him? It doesn’t seem worth the risk.”
I swept my straggling hair behind my ears with both hands. “Because perhaps he thought Caden saw him that day? He might not know that Caden couldn’t identify the person he claimed to see, or that the authorities didn’t really believe him. And even if Reese is innocent of Rachel’s murder, he could’ve been out for revenge. Maybe he believed that Caden killed Rachel, despite Mr. Kendrick’s theories about some mysterious criminal cartel being involved.”
Aunt Lydia absently stroked the upholstered arm of her chair. “That’s possible, I suppose. Although I’d be more likely to agree with Kurt. If this group he calls the Quinns are as dangerous as he claims, I’m sure they wouldn’t hesitate to silence any whistle-blowers. It sounds like they could’ve sent someone in to kill Rachel with or without Reese LeBlanc’s knowledge.”
Walt snapped his legs back against the sofa and
straightened in his seat. “Did you say the Quinns?”
“Yes.” Aunt Lydia examined him with interest. “Don’t tell me you’ve heard of them.”
Zelda laid her hand on Walt’s rigid forearm. “Is that true, dear? You know something about these criminals?”
“I’ve read some things…” Walt shook his head. “Can’t really say much more, but that name has popped up in some forensic accounting I’ve had to do for the government. There was this collection of paintings that someone tried to donate to the National Gallery of Art, and it all seemed a bit questionable…”
“So they really are a well-known criminal organization.” I sat back in my chair and pondered this information. I was loath to credit Kendrick with speaking the truth, but it seemed he had, at least in this instance.
“Yes, but even if the Quinns had Rachel LeBlanc killed, why would they murder the Kroft boy?” Walt asked. “That isn’t something a well-organized, secretive crime ring would do. It just draws more attention to the LeBlanc case, and I doubt they’d want that.”
“Unless he saw something, or they thought he did.” I remembered Caden’s comments about a mysterious figure in the woods. “He told Sunny and me that he glimpsed someone else fleeing the scene, so maybe the murderer saw him too. They might’ve been afraid that Caden had seen too much.”
Zelda fluttered a hand before her face. “Heavens above, that means we have three possible candidates for that poor lamb’s killer—a ticked-off druggie, Reese LeBlanc, or some mercenary hired by these notorious Quinns.”
Walt loosely clasped his long fingers together on one of his knees. “Well, Reese isn’t doing himself any favors. Running away just makes him look guilty.”
“Yes, and he’s still on the lam, based on the latest updates from the sheriff’s department,” Zelda said.
I studied her sparkling eyes and the heightened color in her cheeks. She was obviously excited to share this information. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had a police scanner at her house. It wouldn’t surprise me.
Shelved Under Murder Page 19
