Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I need the world’s longest, hottest shower,” Kate said twenty minutes later as they exited the room and took the stairs down to the main floor. “Scalding. Skin peeling. I want new skin.”
“I’ve crawled through literal shit, and that was still the grossest thing I’ve ever done,” Jake agreed.
Kate paused by the ornately carved cherub decorating the handrail, reminding her of the tiny-scale replica on Rebecca’s desk. “Are you talking about the time you and Fluke escaped that illegal house party by climbing through a sewer system? You said it was a water waste disposal. I thought it was, like, nuclear material.”
“Technically, what I said was the water was compromised,” Jake said, pushing past her and heading down the stairs.
“I made you sound like a Ninja Turtle!” Kate called out.
“And I told you I felt more like a sewer rat. The door is down this way, I think.”
They’d just passed a small alcove with several potted plants arranged around a pair of Grecian columns when Kate heard someone clear their throat. She grabbed Jake on impulse and dragged him into the foliage as Steven the real estate lawyer came striding down the hallway from the opposite direction wearing a pair of bright orange swim shorts and carrying a towel over his shoulder. He moved swiftly out of sight, muttering to himself too low for Kate to hear.
“We must be close,” she whispered, trying and failing miserably to ignore how close and warm Jake was, and how very alone they were in that alcove. It was like the crawl space all over again, and Kate wasn’t yet ready to process all of that . Her thighs were still weak from bracing herself against the wall as Jake—
She pushed him hastily out of their hiding space before her thighs got any more ideas.
“It’s just down this way,” Jake said, thankfully not privy to her filthy thoughts.
She allowed herself the brief pleasure of watching him walk ahead before she trotted after. Sure enough, there was a stuffed animal with a small gold plaque that identified it as a Tasmanian devil, and Kate wondered how anyone could wrestle such a beast, much less walk away from the encounter smiling. Opposite was the red door Kate recognized from the picture, tucked into another alcove and practically unnoticeable in the dim corridor. There was nothing else in the hallway save a large window a few feet down that showcased the rough surf beyond the island’s border, fat drops of rain lashing against the window with a rattle.
“This must be it,” Jake said. “I don’t think a toothpick is going to cut it this time.”
Kate’s heart sank as she surveyed the door. This was no old-school lock; in fact, the handle didn’t have a lock at all. It had a dead bolt installed above it, and a latch for an additional padlock above the dead bolt. The latch was flipped open, but Kate could see the telltale sliver of silver where the dead bolt was set firmly into the door.
“I don’t suppose you know how to pick real locks?” Kate asked Jake hopefully.
“Not among my Jake of All Trades skill set,” he said dryly.
“I didn’t call you that last night, did I?” Kate winced.
“Among other things,” Jake muttered.
Kate debated whether or not to apologize or just crash through the window at the end of the hall and keep running until she walked into the sea. But she was once again saved from either unpleasant option by the click and slide of the dead bolt as the door swung open.
“Oh,” said Richie Hempstead, pulling up short just inside the door as a wave of warm, humid air and the distinct scent of chlorine wafted out around him. His hair dripped onto the carpet, his body blocking the door too much for Kate to get a good view past him. “What are you two doing here?”
“We’re…” Kate looked to Jake, suddenly short on excuses. She’d been handing out so many of them lately, she could hardly keep track anymore.
“We’re looking for your aunt,” Jake said. “The wedding coordinator needs to know where to move all the wedding decorations. The tent outside got knocked over by the high winds and they have to relocate everything inside.”
“You haven’t seen her, have you?” Kate asked, looking intently at Richie while also trying to sneak a peek past him. It was pitch black in there, as far as she could tell, and far more humid than it should be considering the chill of the rest of the house.
“No,” Richie said slowly, stepping deliberately into the hallway and pulling the door closed. He lifted a chain around his neck, a silver key dangling on it, and threw the dead bolt with a resounding click. He then flipped the latch into place and dug around in a canvas knapsack—which also contained a towel, Kate noted, still damp—and pulled out a padlock. He kept one eye on the two of them, like they might try to kick down the door as soon as he turned his back.
“What’s in there?” Kate asked, trying to sound casual. Which was obviously not her forte, based on the hooded expression Richie gave her.
“That’s off-limits to guests,” Richie said archly. “Family only, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, is your aunt in there, maybe?” Kate asked hopefully.
“No,” Richie said again, clearly annoyed.
“How do you know?” Kate pressed. “Maybe we should go and check. For Abraham. He seemed pretty frantic about it.”
“I know she’s not in there, because I just was, and she was not,” Richie said.
Kate knew she was pushing her luck, but she needed to know what was behind that door. “Can we take a look? Just to confirm?”
“Mmmm, family members only, if you’ll recall me saying that about two sentences ago.”
“What about last night?” Jake asked. “Was Rebecca here last night?”
Richie sighed to the ceiling. “I don’t know what that has to do with anything, but yes, she was. Briefly. She wasn’t feeling well, so she left. Last I heard her, she was having some kind of argument with that Sheffield guy out here in the hallway. She’s definitely going to tear Ken a new one for inviting him this weekend. Was that what you were looking for? We done here?”
So, Rebecca had argued with Marcus Sheffield. Interesting. Had he dragged her back to the pool and drowned her later, when Richie was gone? Or were Marcus and Richie in on it together? Kate needed to get back to her murder board and reconsider her suspects. She could find a way into the pool room later, when Richie wasn’t guarding the door.
“Do you remember what time that was?” Kate asked.
“Oh my god,” Richie muttered, taking out his phone and unlocking it to swipe through his photos app. Kate caught only a glimpse of Richie and Steven smiling into the camera before he tilted it away from her suspiciously. When he did, she spotted a fresh blister on the palm of his otherwise unblemished skin. He slid his phone back into the canvas sack. “A little after eleven, I think. Now, goodbye!”
He started to move past them, and Kate signaled to Jake to distract Richie as she slipped behind him, gently sliding her hand into his canvas sack.
“What would it take, mate, to get an invite to that room?” Jake asked, blocking the hallway.
“I don’t know, be born with better genes?” Richie said impatiently. But he paused, looking Jake over. “Actually, I bet you look pretty decent in a set of trunks. We might be doing a little private thing tonight after the ceremony, if you ditch the straight here.”
Kate had just snagged his phone and dropped it in the pocket of her cardigan when he looked at her over his shoulder. His gaze traveled up and down her simple attire, making his opinion of her fashion choices apparent.
“Will your, uh, friend be there?” Kate asked. “The lawyer, Steven?”
“Okay, you two are asking a lot of weird questions,” Richie said. “And unless you’re a hot FBI agent or my fashion-challenged parole officer, I don’t have to answer them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready. This hair doesn’t coif itself.”
“Oh, well, don’t let us keep you,” Kate said.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need the two of you to leave this hallway with me,” Richie said, shooing them both along. He muttered to himself as they reluctantly followed in his wake. “Auntie R had a point about not letting commoners in the Manor. Atrocious manners.”