“He said it wasn’t and . . . I believe him,” Nick said.
“Did you ever tell the truth when it was us?” Ty asked him.
Nick gave him a negligent shrug. “A man like Fraser hasn’t exactly been trained for what I put him through.”
“I’m not a medical examiner,” Kelly announced, trying to cut the tension, “but I’m pretty sure his neck was snapped.”
He pointed to Burns’s chin, refraining from lifting it off the floor. They had to get down on the ground to see what he was talking about. Ty moved closer, looking almost sideways in an attempt to see but not see. There were bruises where Kelly was indicating, like someone had taken his chin and jerked it.
“The positioning’s all wrong,” Nick murmured. He was on his hands and knees beside Kelly, tilting his head to see.
Kelly nodded. “Either it wasn’t someone with training, or Burns fought like hell and fucked up their hold.”
“Or the person was injured,” Zane pointed out.
“Burns was a large man,” Nick added. “Avery Kline would’ve had a time of this too, no matter how skilled she was. Trying to snap someone’s neck when they’re a foot taller than you isn’t exactly easy.”
“That would explain why she panicked and made that move on Stanton,” Zane whispered.
Earl was glaring at both men. “I ain’t hearing any answers from you two, just a bunch of maybes.”
Nick and Zane both glanced at him guiltily before going back to their examination. Earl got to his feet and paced a few steps, his eyes meeting Ty’s. He stopped in front of him, then put his arm around Ty’s shoulders, releasing him quickly when Ty winced away, holding his dislocated shoulder. Earl took his good arm again, and Ty was forced to look at the body of Richard Burns.
Earl pointed at him. “Look at that man, son.”
Ty stared at his father for a few moments, then turned his eyes to the floor.
“I met him on a helicopter going into the jungle, Ty. You know what that is?” Earl grabbed Ty’s shirt front, pulling him closer to whisper in his ear. “That’s Nick on the ground, Beaumont. You go fucking find who did this, and you kill him.”
Ty stared at the men kneeling. At the body on the floor. His stomach turned at the thought of any of these men in Burns’s place, lying dead on the floor, murdered. He remembered the anguish of standing at Elias Sanchez’s funeral, of carrying that casket. He remembered the desperate need for revenge.
“Yes, sir.”
Earl stormed out of the room. He had to go somewhere and grieve, somewhere to be away from the body of his oldest and dearest friend. And to deal with guilt, because he’d spent the past several hours enraged over the things he’d learned about Burns.
The Grady family would never be the same after this loss.
Zane clambered to his feet and came to Ty, taking him by his good arm. “Come on,” he said into Ty’s ear.
Ty shook his head, his nostrils flaring and his focus narrowing to a pinpoint. “Someone else was behind this, Zane. Someone else was orchestrating this.”
“Come on, Ty, let’s get out of here.”
“It wasn’t him.”
“Ty.”
“Someone else did all this!” Ty shouted, jabbing his finger at Burns’s body.
“Tyler,” Nick barked. “Get your ass in gear and go!”
Ty nodded woodenly, moving to obey that tone of voice almost automatically. Zane stayed with him, fingers digging into his arm.
“Are you okay?” Zane asked as soon as they were on the stairs.
“They killed him, Zane.”
Zane stopped halfway down the steps and pulled him closer. “I know.” He turned Ty to him, making sure he met his eyes. “You’ve taken a lot of hits in the last few days, Ty. Let me take this last one for you.”
Ty stared at him, struck breathless, struck speechless. He snaked his arm around Zane’s neck and hugged him tight. He nodded, still unable to speak.
“We’ll round up everyone physically capable of doing this,” Zane murmured against Ty’s hair, “and we’ll find out who it is even if we have to take Nick’s ball and chain to every one of them.”
There were a great deal of complaints when Ty and Zane gathered every able-bodied person in the dining room and frog-marched them into the study, but the weapons they wielded and the look in Ty’s eyes were enough motivation to get everyone moving and keep them cooperating.
There were two groomsmen: Christian and Matthew. Three bridesmaids: Catalina, Miyoko, and Ashlee. Livi’s brother, Theo, and Emma’s cameraman, Marley. Mackie and Hamish Boyd were the only two staff members who remained, since Fraser was still tied up in the game room. And Ty had somehow convinced the three Snake Eaters to come peacefully. Zane didn’t know how he’d built that rapport, but he was grateful he didn’t have to wrestle John English through a door he didn’t want to go through.
Twelve suspects.
Several others joined them to help keep order, and to help parse the evidence. Stanton, Earl, Mara, and Chester were there, as was Emma, who was still protesting Marley’s inclusion in the suspect pool. Deuce and Livi had left Amelia with Livi’s mother, Susan, and come to be part of the meeting. Nick and Kelly soon came into the room as well. Several of the people who’d heard Jockie Fraser’s screams shied away from Nick when he entered the room.
Zane moved toward the corner, nodding for Nick to join him. “Got anything we can cull the herd with?”
Nick stared at him for a few seconds. “I never realized how disturbing your accent is until you use cow analogies.”
Zane fought hard to keep his face as deadpan as Nick’s. “Yeah okay, say car.”
“Shut up. Kelly narrowed down time of death to a six-hour window, but he wants to make sure everyone knows he’s essentially guessing. Considering the last time Burns was seen was six hours ago, I’m going to back him on his assessment.”
“Great,” Zane huffed.
“He told me that when he and Ty went looking for Burns, Earl said he hadn’t seen him since his talk with you and me. So . . . it’s probably safe to say he went to his room and someone was waiting there for him.”
Zane nodded. “No one could have knocked on Burns’s door and surprised him. You’re right, they would have had to’ve been lying in wait. Okay, let’s see what we can shake loose.” He gave Nick’s shoulder a pat and stepped away.
“What the hell is going on?” Ashlee Knight demanded. Zane knew her only as the bombshell from Nick’s notes. She certainly looked the part.
“There’s been one last murder,” Zane announced.
There was a murmur of shock and alarm, but at least half the people in the room looked like they just wanted to go to bed. Death was no longer traumatic for the island.
Zane glanced at Nick and Ty, holding his breath. They had so little to go on, he was going to have to bluff his way through this. He hoped they would play along.
“We’ve captured or killed all the people responsible for this massacre, all but one,” he said to the people crowded into the room. “The ladies in the room can relax, the killer we’re looking for is a man.”
The three bridesmaids shared relieved, frightened glances before going to sit on a chaise near the far wall, holding each other’s hands and leaning on each other in a huddle.
“Are you saying the killer you’re looking for is in this room right now?” Christian Orr asked. He’d been introduced to Zane as Deuce’s best friend from Philadelphia.
“I sure as hell hope so,” Zane drawled.
“Jesus Christ,” Mathew Ferguson shouted. He glanced to the wall, where Deuce stood amongst the other observers. “Deacon, are you serious right now? You’ve known me since we were freshmen in undergrad!”
“Just roll with it, Matt,” Deuce told him. “They’re good, they’ll find out who did this. You got nothing to worry about. Unless you killed someone.”
“Like hell!” Matthew shouted, but he remained seated.
Zane stepped into t
he corner for another refrain, beckoning Ty, Nick, and Kelly with him. A buzz of nervous conversation started up behind them. “Who the hell do we like for this?” Zane whispered.
Kelly shook his head. “I want to see if I’m right, man.”
“You want to take bets, don’t you?” Nick asked, voice flat.
Ty rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face.
“What we really need is a confession,” Nick said to Zane. “We don’t have anything but hunches here. We need someone to stand up and say they did it.”
“Oh, is that all?” Zane glared at Nick as he moved away again. The other three remained in the corner, watching him.
Zane considered the remaining suspects. Nine now. Three military men trained in the art of combat. Two old men who’d worked on the island all their lives, one who’d lost his wife to this mess. Three privileged, well-educated males from Pennsylvania, one of whom had everything to gain from his father’s death or downfall. And then there was Marley, the adventuring cameraman Emma Grady was willing to vouch for.
“Nick, how long ago was Fraser contacted?” Zane asked.
“He said three weeks.”
“Three weeks. And Livi, you met Nikki Webb when?”
“Two months ago.”
Zane glanced at Emma, narrowing his eyes. “When did your team get shelved?”
“A month ago. Why?”
“When did Deuce ask you to bring your cameraman?”
“Last week, when he invited me to the wedding.”
Zane nodded, narrowing his eyes at Marley King.
The man’s eyes grew wider and he pointed to himself. “I’m a vegetarian,” he said. “I don’t kill things. Hell, I don’t even like cutting my grass, man. That fresh-cut grass smell? That’s plants in distress!”
Kelly moved closer to Zane, lowering his head and crossing his arms. “Burns’s knuckles were fucked up, man. Whoever he fought with would have bruises starting to show. See if any of them are wearing makeup.”
Zane peered at him. “Makeup?”
Kelly nodded, completely serious.
“What if it was Kline?”
Kelly shrugged. “Got to start somewhere, right?”
Zane took a deep breath. “Anyone got any makeup remover on them?”
Catalina Cruz raised her hand, as did Ashlee, who was sitting beside her. They dug in their purses and produced several disposable wipes. Kelly collected them with murmured thank-yous, then turned to Marley as he took one of the wipes out of its packet.
“I’m not wearing makeup,” Marley told them, chuckling nervously. He waved a hand at his face. “Nobody on this island can match this perfect skin tone.”
Kelly was smiling, but he still gave Marley’s face a few swipes. He examined the wipe, then showed it to Zane.
“Looks like you’re free to go, Mr. King,” Zane said. He was pleased, because he really liked Emma’s cameraman.
“Are you fucking serious with this?” Theo Stanton asked. “Makeup remover?”
“Anyone want to confess and make this go faster?” Nick asked. He was leaning against a side table near the door, arms crossed over his chest.
John English stepped forward. “No, but I’ll volunteer to get my damn face wiped off next.”
“Me too,” Matthew and Christian said in unison.
Zane caught English throwing Ty a wink and a smirk. He knew what needed to happen here, and it seemed he was helping out. Ty appeared to trust the man, so Zane would as well. For now. If he threw Ty another wink they’d be having problems, though.
Kelly went to each man, wiping their faces with the makeup remover wipes. When he approached Theo, the man stood and glared at him.
“You’re not touching me with that.”
Kelly cocked his head, and a slow smile developed on his face.
“Why is that?” Ty asked Theo. “Allergies?”
“No, it’s called civil rights, and I have them. I haven’t killed anyone, Jesus Christ.” He waved imploringly to his father and sister. “This is ridiculous, you both know I’d never do this to our family!”
Nick cleared his throat. “Kelly, put him down.”
Kelly moved with shocking speed, wrapping Theo up and pinning his arm. Then he stepped between Theo’s legs, turned, and dropped to his knees, letting gravity hurl Theo over his shoulder and flatten him on the floor.
Theo lay gasping for breath, shocked into immobility. Livi screamed, and Stanton shouted a wordless protest, but no one else moved.
Zane stepped forward and pulled his gun, pointing it at Theo’s face. “How about you answer some questions the easy way, hmm?”
Theo nodded, still gasping for breath.
“If company secrets were sold, what would happen to the company?”
“We’d lose the DOD contracts. Shareholders would start selling off left and right. We’d be forced to liquidate everything in the following year. In eighteen months, we’d be bankrupt.”
Zane glanced over his shoulder at Stanton.
“He’s right.”
“If I were part of this, I would be digging my own financial grave. The company’s worth billions of dollars; no rival could offer me enough money to give that up, much less betray my family,” Theo said through gritted teeth.
Zane relaxed and stuffed the gun back into his pants. He and Kelly helped Theo up. “Next time just let him wipe your damn face,” Zane said. He gave Theo a shove toward his family and turned to the remaining suspects.
Hamish Boyd pushed to his feet, using his cane to make his way toward Zane. “If you are truly considering me or Mackie as suspects over these hired thugs, you must be a sad example of a Yank policeman.”
“No, that’s me,” Nick broke in. He’d drawn his weapon and had it pointed at Hamish’s head.
“Nick,” Zane whispered.
“His cane is a gun, Garrett.”
Zane’s eyes darted to Hamish’s cane.
“Are you serious right now?”
“I’ve seen them before,” Nick assured Zane. “It’s a gun.”
“That’s preposterous!” Hamish shouted. He raised the cane to wave it around, and Ty hit Zane from the side, tackling him to the ground and covering his body with his. There was a sound like someone opening a biscuit can, and then the room devolved into madness. Zane rolled to his feet, drawing his weapon.
Solomon Frost, the blond Snake Eater who seemed to have made friends with everyone, had tackled Nick to the ground, and they were now wrestling over the gun in their hands. It went off, punching a hole through the wood paneling near Deuce and Livi’s heads. Livi screamed and Deuce lunged in front of her, shielding her and forcing her low to the ground. He reached out for the woman next to him, Miyoko Mason, who was holding her bloody arm and screaming that she’d been shot. The bullet fired from Hamish’s cane gun had hit her instead of Zane.
Hamish was frantically groping for something on the handle of his cane, and just as Kelly was about to take a run at the old man, he found the switch and a short knife flipped out of the bottom of the cane. Kelly skidded to a halt and took a step back.
“What the fuck kind of butler are you?” he shouted.
Hamish grinned and pointed his cane at Kelly’s face. “A bitter one.”
Zane didn’t know which way to turn or who to help first. Ty hadn’t gotten off the round yet. He was curled on his side, holding his arm, but it wasn’t clear if he’d been shot or if he’d merely aggravated his already hurt shoulder.
Nick hadn’t yet gained the upper hand against Frost, but he had managed to land an elbow or two to the man’s face and wrap his legs around Frost’s waist so he couldn’t roll off and get away.
Kelly had his gun out, pointing it at Hamish and ordering him to stand down. But he didn’t seem like he wanted to pull the trigger, and the old butler could see that.
“You had your own wife murdered,” Kelly said to him.
“You’ve obviously never been married.”
Kelly pursed his
lips thoughtfully, shrugging like he might understand that reasoning.
English and Park pounced on Frost, burying Nick under yet another dog pile of limbs. Zane turned his gun on Hamish, only to fire off to the right at the last second when he saw a man standing directly behind Hamish, shovel raised high.
Chester took a mighty swing and whacked Hamish in the back of the head. The butler collapsed to the ground, his cane falling harmlessly at his side. English managed to subdue Frost, holding him in a headlock as Nick scratched and clawed his way out from under their weight.
Zane still stood in the middle of the chaos, every sense alert to every movement, every fiber of his being telling him there was still danger.
“What the fuck just happened?” Deuce shouted.
Chester laid his shovel over his shoulder and grinned at Zane. English and Park finally got Frost on his face, holding him down with a knee to his back. Kelly was helping Ty off the ground, looking at his shoulder and nodding. Nick was still sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling.
“Anyone have any rope?” English called out.
Kelly pulled out a pair of handcuffs and thrust them at Park.
“Why the hell do you have those?” Ty asked.
Kelly shrugged and grinned. “They’re Nick’s.”
“Oh God, no,” Ty blurted, covering his eyes.
Nick laughed. He rolled over and pushed himself to his hands and knees, but he remained there, either unable or unwilling to stand. He glanced up at Ty and Zane. “He likes the uniform, too.”
“No no no!” Ty cried.
“Well, that’s just unnecessary,” Earl said from the doorway. He had grabbed Mara and the two uninjured bridesmaids when the shooting had started and shoved them out of the room to safety. He also had the antique rifle from the dining room in his hands.
Hamish moaned and began to move. Zane shoved him to his back with the toe of his boot and pointed his gun in the old man’s face. “Start from the beginning.”
“I don’t know who paid us,” Hamish said groggily. His head was bleeding freely, but no one cared. “And you know the rest.”
“Humor me.”
“Jockie came to me with this plan. He said a man in a tavern had approached him. This island belonged to our families for centuries, and look at us! We’re servants on our own home!”
Ball & Chain (Cut & Run) Page 29
