I managed to hide my smile.
"I need to go right over with my jumper cables. He hates to be kept waiting. Can we come back later?"
"Doesn't he have AAA?"
Jacques started the engine. "Honey, I am his AAA. The guy is too cheap to spend any money."
I couldn't stand to wait any longer. I had to know now. "Give me your eKEY and code, and I'll go in myself. Then I'll wait inside till you get back."
The sky was eerily dark, with only a sliver of the moon showing.
He pursed his lips. "I don't like leaving you here alone. If anything happens to you, Greg will kick my ass."
"I'll be fine as long as Donna doesn't show up. How long will you be?"
"Shouldn't take more than twenty minutes. Oh, and I talked to Donna about an hour ago. She wants to meet with me on Monday. She thinks she's convinced me to stay. It'll be a bit of a surprise when I show her my new lease." Jacques chuckled. "Anyhow, she said she was on her way to the movies with a friend, so we're in the clear."
"Awesome. That's a huge relief."
"Amen. I'll call when I'm on my way back so that we can make a quick getaway. It's going to be kind of tough as it is, explaining to Donna why I've been in a house that's not supposed to have any showings."
"You'll think of something. Try to hurry back."
His phone buzzed again. "You see what I mean. Like an old lady, that man. He can't wait two lousy seconds." He picked up the phone and screamed into it while I covered my ears. "I'm on my way, keep your pants on."
I chuckled. "Wow. You guys act like an old married couple, and you haven't even had your first anniversary yet."
"Yeah, well, if he keeps this up, we won't make it to our first anniversary." Jacques reached into his coat pocket for the eKEY and handed it to me. "The pass code is my birthday, 0515. Remember, it's coming up very soon." He winked.
"Thanks, you're the best." I opened the car door.
"Cindy, please be careful."
"Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to your stuff. I'll guard it with my life."
"I'm not worried about the eKEY. I've got a spare anyway."
I grinned at him. "Always so prepared."
"I was talking about you. Don't do anything risky. I'll be back as soon as I can." With a brisk wave and squeal of the tires, he was off.
I proceeded toward the house with caution. The only audible sound was my heart, pounding furiously away. The house and lawn were both submerged in complete darkness. I was surprised the outside lights didn't have automatic timers, unless Donna had shut them off on purpose. She could still allow showings on the house, but it seemed as if she now wanted everyone to forget the place existed. Why?
The ringing of my phone startled me. I took it out of my pocket and leaned back against the side of the house, fearful someone might see or hear me. It was Jacques.
I whispered into the phone. "Don't worry, I'm fine."
"I'm glad to hear that but wanted to let you know Linda just called me back. She didn't know anything about Tiffany having a boyfriend, but—"
"Well, shoot." Another idea that didn't pan out.
"Wait a minute, I'm not finished. She remembered a guy calling last week when they were both in the office late one evening. Shortly after that, she went up to Tiffany's office to hand her a fax and said Tiffany was giggling away on the phone like a schoolgirl. Said she heard her tell the guy she couldn't wait to have her way with him later."
Ew. "I really didn't need to hear that. Did Linda happen to mention the conversation to the police?"
Jacques snorted. "I doubt it. You know Linda. Her mind is a blank slate unless you ask her something straight out. She'd forgotten all about him until I mentioned Tiffany's calls. Said she only remembers him phoning once, so she didn't think it was a big deal. However, the name stuck in her head because it was the same as her brother's."
My pulse quickened. "Anybody we know?"
"Nah. Some guy named Chuck Samuels."
CHAPTER TWENTY
It had started to rain. I remained standing perfectly still, my body pressed up against the vinyl siding, water dripping from my hair. I barely noticed the discomfort as Jacques' words registered with my brain. The cell slipped from my hand into the wet grass below before I had a chance to stop it.
As I fell to my knees to retrieve it, Jacque's anxious voice filtered through the phone. "Cin, are you there?" he asked. "Cindy!"
"Here," I managed to squeak out. "Chuck is—"
"Listen, girl, I just drove past a cop and don't have my hands free. I've got to get off. Be back as soon as I can."
"Jacques, wait—"
The line went dead.
I was finally able to put together the truth. Ken had been having an affair with Tiffany, using an alias, and now Tiffany was dead. He'd killed her, and it was for the vase. While my gut instinct told me my theory was correct, I still needed to see for myself that the vase was really gone. And why did I feel like there was still another piece missing from this puzzle?
With zombie-like motions, I entered Jacques' code and inserted the key into the door. I walked through the foyer, climbed the stairs, and then couldn't even remember doing so. I headed straight for Tiffany's bedroom. With every step I took, my heart knocked louder and louder against the wall of my chest. I flicked on the light switch and glanced toward the piano, then sucked in some air. There was no vase to be seen. Big surprise.
Hands shaking, I reached for my phone as a metallic click sounded behind me, and I whirled around.
"You should've made sure the door locked behind you. I guess you're not a very good agent."
Ken stood in the doorway, pointing a gun directly at my head.
Play dumb. "What are you talking about? Is another agent showing you the house? I thought you were going to buy it from me."
"Forget the house bullshit." Ken moved closer to me as I in turn took a few steps backward. "You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?"
"I—I guess not." I forced my gaze away from the gun to stare at his handsome face. Eyes that had resembled dark pools of melted chocolate the other day were now as black and cold as the night. "Ken, you don't have to do this."
He chuckled, the gun never wavering in his grasp. "Little Miss Detective. I knew you'd try to make trouble after the stunt you pulled the other day, so that's why I followed you around. I saw you go into my shop. Who the hell do you think you are?"
Think, think. "I decided to take your advice and sell some jewelry. I need the money badly."
His eyes glittered and for an instant focused on my chest, then back to my face. "Correction. Not a very good agent or liar."
My heart thumped faster. Okay, try not to make him angrier. "Yeah, I got top dollar, like you said I would. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get home to my kids." I took a step toward the door.
He pushed me back roughly by the shoulder. "Nice try. But you're not going anywhere, and you'll never see those brats again."
The bile rose in my throat while he stood there shaking his head at me. "Don't start blubbering, Cindy. It won't work with me. I'm not one of those men who gets all upset when a woman cries. Actually, it kind of turns me on."
Anger rose from the pit of my stomach and threatened to erupt like a volcano. "Looking at you makes me want to vomit. You're not a man, you're scum."
I may have gone a bit too far with my speech. I watched as the phony smile disappeared from Ken's face, and his eyes filled with venom. He didn't say a single word as he nonchalantly drew his arm back and punched me in the face. I saw stars and fell backward in a confused state of agony onto one of Tiffany's Persian rugs. My entire head throbbed, and the pain was so intense in my right eye that I couldn't open it for a few minutes.
When I finally managed to focus, Ken was standing over me, an evil smile twisting at the corners of his mouth. "And if you really want to vomit, I'll help you along." He kicked my stomach sharply with the toe of his shoe. "There. A little payback for the o
ther day."
That did the trick. I lay on the floor in a fetal position, writhing in pain. I turned my head and began retching onto the rug. Ken's laughter roared in my ears, and the room started to grow dark. As the walls began to close in, I desperately fought against the urge to black out.
Don't faint now. You can't. Thoughts of Greg and the kids made me want to weep. No, I couldn't give up without a fight. I owed that much to my family.
One thing was for sure. If help didn't arrive soon, I was a goner. Ken wouldn't hesitate to use his gun on me. I had to get him talking again and try to stall until Jacques showed up.
Ken tossed me a handkerchief. "God, you're pathetic. Clean your face up."
I tried to mop up the mess. "You and Donna used me to get into Tiffany's house so that you could grab the vase. That whole story about your mother looking for a house was a lie. And then you took the vase and put it in your car while I was in the bathroom." I remembered him steering me toward the other bedroom afterward so that I wouldn't know it had disappeared.
"Well done, Nancy Drew. Almost correct on all counts. But dumb Donna didn't know about the vase's worth. And you won't get a chance to tell her."
"She wanted me to take the blame for Tiffany's murder though."
"I do like brainy woman. Too bad you wouldn't sleep with me. Did you know you're the first woman to ever refuse me? I should've known there was something off about you from the start."
"Why—because I have morals?"
Me and my big mouth again. My latest snarky comment cost me dearly as Ken pulled his shoe back and kicked me in the side this time. My obvious misery made him chuckle, and he leaned down to whisper in my ear. "I'm starting to enjoy this. Maybe I'll continue to torture you until your gay, little friend comes back. Then you can watch me kill him before I take care of you."
Jacques. Bone-chilling panic swept over me. He'd be no match for Ken. I bit my lip to fight back tears. "Please don't hurt him. He didn't do anything. You're angry at me, not him. Please, I'm begging you."
I stared into piercing dark eyes devoid of emotion and realized my words were falling on deaf ears. I was never going to see my husband or kids again. I couldn't let Jacques die too.
Laughter erupted from the doorway as another person joined our party. I stared helplessly at our newest guest.
"Donna! Your husband killed Tiffany."
She shook her head and smiled sadly. "Oh, Cindy. Why did I ever hire you? You're not as smart as I thought. As usual, you have everything wrong."
Could she really be this stupid? "I know you don't want to believe it, but—"
Donna squatted down next to me and breathed into my ear. "Ken didn't kill her. I did."
A wave of nausea and confusion passed over me. "But why? She was your friend. And she made you a lot of money."
Ken scratched at his head with his free hand while keeping the gun pointed at me with the other. He turned slightly to address Donna.
"What are you doing here?" He didn't seem pleased to see his bride.
She looked at me drooling away on the floor. "I got an email alert that someone had entered the house. Jacques' code came up, but I knew it had to be this nosy bitch." She got to her feet, but continued to taunt me. "You wanted to sleep with my husband, didn't you?"
I paused to catch my breath, still afraid I might pass out. "Your husband's got his hands full in that department already. He's been lying to you. He only wanted to get in here and steal Tiffany's vase. Then he was going to dump you."
"Vase?" Donna asked. "You mean the one Tiffany kept in here? That's my vase. Everything in this house is mine. Daddy was supposed to leave everything to me, not her."
There was the missing piece to my puzzle. I remembered my earlier conversation with Jacques, and my mouth dropped open. "Holy cow. Tiffany's your sister."
"Was is the operative word." She made a face. "And she was only my half-sister."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "She was your flesh and blood—and you killed her! Why?"
"She shouldn't have threatened to leave the company. I made her one of the top agents in the state, and that's how she repays me?"
I couldn't wrap my brain around this logic. "But she was your sister," I repeated.
"This house should have been mine. I'm the first born. I couldn't believe Daddy would leave it to her. Of course it's worthless now, but that's all right. Her jewelry and other personal effects will be enough for me. Not to mention any antiques Daddy left her." She smiled at me. "You walked right into my trap. I knew she was meeting you that night. When I called Tiffany to ask her to split the Hunter listing, she told me how you'd threatened her. It was the break I had been looking for."
With that, Donna turned to her husband, voice barely above a whisper. She compressed her lips together in a fine, thin line. "How did you know about the vase?"
Ken didn't respond as he continued to wave the gun at me.
Recognition slowly dawned on Donna's face. "Oh my God. You've been here—with her."
"He was having an affair with Tiffany. Your own sister." I spoke as gently as I could.
Ken glared at me but thankfully didn't touch me again.
Donna gripped the bed post between her hands. "I should have known. You never really loved me, did you?"
He snorted and gave her a look of repulsion. "Please. What's to love? If I'd met Tiffany first, I would have married her instead. Then the vase would have been mine, and no one would have had to get hurt. But you—oh, no. You were so jealous of her. It was pitiful to watch."
Her eyes filled with tears. "That's why you haven't slept with me since our wedding night."
Ew. Way too much information for my ears.
Ken burst into laughter. "You're lucky I didn't put a bag over your head."
I couldn't let this one go. "Now that's cold."
He leaned over and kicked me in the side again. When would I learn to keep my mouth shut?
Ken tossed me a pencil and a piece of paper from his pocket. "You're going to write a suicide note and say you're sorry for killing Tiffany."
It hurt for me to speak, but I managed to spit out a few words. "My husband would never believe that, and I won't do it."
"You don't have a choice." He clicked the hammer on the gun.
"Where's the vase?" Donna demanded, looking toward the piano.
Ken waved the gun and flashed an evil-looking smile at her. "That's for me to know and you to never find out."
Donna stared at him, the color draining from her face. Then it dawned on me that Donna's life was as much in jeopardy as my own.
She seemed to realize this as well. "But—you said she was ruining my life."
"Well, she was," Ken growled. "And now you're ruining mine." He moved the gun away from my head and pointed it at Donna.
She gasped. "It was your idea for me to kill Tiffany. You said it was better that way. I could take over all of her listings, keep her personal items." She turned to me. "He talked me into killing her. When I found out you were meeting Tiffany to talk about the Hunter house, everything fell right into place. I told Ken, and he said you could take the blame for both of us. No one would ever know."
Ken moved the gun closer to her. "You need to shut your fat trap now."
Donna wiped her eyes. "It wasn't fair. She was so gorgeous. Every guy who met Tiffany wanted her. Look at me. I didn't have a date for almost three years."
Ken laughed. "Gee, I wonder why."
Tears ran down her cheeks. "I can't believe I actually thought you loved me. You only care about yourself."
Ken shrugged. "Well, pretty much. I needed money, and there you were—desperate Donna, longing to be loved. Then I discovered your sister had even more money than you. Plus, she was way better looking. Too bad she had to go, but it all worked out for the best anyway. Now me and my vase can live happily ever after."
"God, how stupid I am. How much is the vase worth?"
"About two million," I said.
Donna gasped out loud. "And you weren't going to tell me? You bastard."
"Tick tock, tick tock." Ken aimed the gun at me. "Your time has run out—now." He motioned to Donna. "Then you're next, old ball and chain."
Donna began sobbing hysterically. "You were going to take off with the vase and not even tell me. I bet you stole her jewelry too, didn't you? Where's the diamond necklace that was worth about twenty grand?"
The necklace I'd seen Randy with earlier. I was confident that was the one Donna spoke of.
"You need to shut the hell up." Ken smacked her across the face.
Donna started screaming and tried to tear the weapon from his hands. Furious, he smacked the gun against the side of her head. She fell backward onto the hardwood floor and lay motionless.
My hands flew to my face in horror as the scene unfolded before me.
Without missing a beat, Ken turned his attention back to me. "Sorry, Cindy, say good-bye now. See you in the afterlife."
Think, think. "Okay. Just let me finish the note for my husband."
He examined his watch. "Hurry up. You have thirty seconds."
My cell phone started to ring from inside my jacket pocket. Jacques must be on his way back. He'd be worried when I didn't answer. It was a realization that left me both hopeful and terrified. I didn't want Jacques to get hurt because of me. I had to do this on my own.
Ken smiled. "Don't even think about answering that."
At that moment, the ringing stopped. With a trembling hand, I picked up the pencil and purposefully pressed the tip hard onto the paper against the floor. The point broke instantly.
"Nice going," he said. "Well, I guess George doesn't get a note now."
"I—I have a pen in my pocket." I reached inside my coat before he could protest and held the ballpoint pen for him to see. "Speaking of notes, did you send the others to me?"
"Of course. We were trying to pin the murder on you. I was hoping you'd go to the police with the picture, especially after they found out you were in Tiffany's house. I'm sure you would've been popular." His eyes glittered with anger. "But, of course, you didn't cooperate."
I glanced at Donna, still lifeless on the floor behind him. "What are you going to do with her?"
Killer Transaction (Cindy York Mysteries Book 1) Page 19
