Chapter Eight
There wasn’t a great selection in the gift shop, but Gemma picked up some chips and dip, a packet of Oreos, and some red licorice strings. She added a couple cans of Diet Pepsi, paid for her purchases, and stuffed a few free napkins into the plastic bag the clerk handed her.
As she crossed the lobby, moving toward the elevators, her instincts began to tingle. She paused, glancing around. Was her imagination running away with itself, or was someone watching her?
The idea seemed foolish, but with her mother in danger, she couldn’t afford to ignore her intuition.
Screening herself behind a posterboard display, she scanned the crowded lobby. People were going about their business, some lining up to register at the desk, some headed for the casino, others wandering aimlessly, much as she had done. No one appeared to be paying her any attention.
A flash of bright color caught her eye. A petite, blond woman in a purplish-red, poly-satin blouse stood half-turned away from her. Gemma recognized her outfit. The blouse, worn with black pants and a black visor, was the uniform of a card dealer.
The visor was worn by some dealers to shield their eyes from the glaring lights of the casino. But why would the woman need to wear it in the lobby? And if she worked in the casino, what was she doing out here?
There could be a reason for both, but the woman looked strangely out of place.
As she turned slightly, Gemma noticed how poorly her clothes fit, as if she’d borrowed someone else’s uniform.
The blouse gapped across her ample chest, and the pants, worn without a belt, were partway unzipped over the rounded bulge of her belly.
To Gemma’s trained eye, she appeared to be … pregnant.
Gemma’s pulse slammed. Turning away from the elevators, she walked back across the lobby, past the gift shop, and down the hall toward the women’s restroom. A furtive glance behind her confirmed that the woman was moving in the same direction, holding her phone to her ear.
Could this really be Simone? Gemma had met her stepbrother’s wife at Frank’s memorial. It was hard to believe the woman slipping along behind her could be the elegant creature she remembered. But there were similarities in size and build, and Gemma knew about Simone’s pregnancy.
Gemma wasn’t afraid of Simone. She was concerned only because Sam Rafferty had warned Lila about Darrin’s alleged plot. The fact that Lila had taken the warning seriously was even more of a cause for Gemma’s worry—especially now, if she was really being shadowed by Simone.
The restroom, with its open entrance, was just ahead. Across the hall, a door that stood ajar was labeled STAIRS.
Maybe she should stop and confront the woman, Gemma thought. But that could prove dangerous, especially if she had a weapon. It might be safer to stay ahead and lead her away from Lila.
By now, Gemma had been gone from the hotel room for longer than thirty minutes. If she didn’t check in soon, her mother would be worried. She needed a safe place to make a call. She could go into the restroom—but from there, there would be only one way out.
The woman had yet to enter the hallway. Making a split-second decision, Gemma tossed the bag of snacks into the restroom, then ducked into the stairwell and closed the door behind her.
The stairwell was stark and empty, its bare walls illuminated by bright fluorescent light.
A flight of metal stairs led upward to a door on the next floor and continued all the way to the top of the hotel.
If she could get higher without being seen, she should be able to exit the stairwell on any random floor and disappear into the maze of rooms.
She began to climb, each footstep echoing in the silent space. With luck, Simone—or whoever the woman might be—would check the restroom first, giving her precious seconds to get ahead.
But she’d calculated wrong. She was a few steps short of the first landing when the door opened and her pursuer stepped inside. Looking back down the stairs, Gemma could see her clearly. She had taken off the visor. It was Simone.
Gemma started to climb again, but Simone had clearly seen her. It was time to turn around and face the enemy.
“What do you want, Simone?” she called, her voice echoing up and down the stairwell. “Why are you following me in that ridiculous disguise?”
“Don’t be afraid, Gemma.” Simone spoke in a coaxing voice. “Come on down. I just want to talk to you.”
“I’ll stay where I am, thank you,” Gemma said. “Just an swer my question. Why are you creeping around like a character in a bad spy movie?”
There was a silent pause, as if Simone was weighing her answer. “It’s my … husband. I don’t want him to see me.” Her voice broke in a dramatic sob. “He’s got this crazy plot against your mother, because of the house. I need to stop him before he breaks the law and ends up in jail.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Gemma demanded. “Just tell me what you want.”
“I have to talk to Lila, in person. She needs to know what Darrin is planning so she can protect herself. Please, he’s mentally ill. He’s capable of anything.”
Gemma shook her head. “I don’t believe a word you’re saying, Simone. You can—”
Gemma’s words ended in a gasp as an arm seized her from behind and yanked her off her feet. Something damp closed over her nose and mouth. She recognized the sweet smell of chloroform.
She struggled, trying not to inhale, but as fumes from the toxic liquid crept into her lungs, she could feel the blackness swirling and growing in her brain until she had to let go and give in. Then there was nothing left of thought or memory.
“You blithering fool!” Simone glared up at her husband, who was standing on the stair, holding the unconscious young woman in his arms. “What in heaven’s name were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that she could ruin everything, and we had to take care of her.”
“Take care of her? How? Should we drag her up the stairs and push her out of a window? Would that help to buy us the house? And what if we got caught? The charges would be kidnapping and murder—or attempted murder, at least. We’d spend the rest of our lives in prison.”
“Can’t we take her somewhere and force her to tell us where her mother is?”
“Not legally. I was doing fine until you showed up,” Simone said.
“I hadn’t even broken any laws. All I did was follow her around and lie to her when she recognized me.
But you—you’ve already committed a felony—felonious assault, I think it’s called.
But what do I know? You’re the lawyer. I’m just a woman. ”
“What’s this talk about you and me, Simone?
” Darrin lugged the slender, long-limbed young woman down the stairs and laid her on the concrete floor.
With one latex-gloved hand, he pulled off his black nylon mask.
“We’re in this together. You’re as much to blame as I am.
If she hadn’t recognized you, you could’ve followed her all the way back to her mother.
So, if you’re so damned clever, tell me. What are we going to do with her now?”
“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” Simone said.
“Give her another dose of chloroform so she won’t open her eyes and see us.
Then we’re going to walk out and leave her right here on the floor.
With luck, when she wakes up, she won’t remember what happened.
Or if she does, nobody will believe her.
Then I’m going to ditch these clothes. We’ll drive back to the Excalibur and sneak into the movie theater in the middle of a film.
As far as anybody who asks is concerned, we were there all the time.
If you’ve got a better idea, speak up now. ”
Darrin glared at her. He hated it when Simone showed him up.
“Well?” she demanded.
Gemma was beginning to stir. He crouched next to her and held the chloroform-soaked cloth over her nose and mouth.
Her body went limp again. For a moment, he gazed down at her—the stepsister whom he’d known since she was a skinny, bookish kid growing up on the ranch, the daughter of the woman he’d hated since the day she’d married his dad.
Technically, Gemma was family. But he’d never felt the slightest brotherly affection toward her.
He could strangle her now without a flicker of guilt.
“What about Lila?” he asked. “Could we force this girl to lead us to her?”
“I was working on that when you stepped in,” Simone said. “But it’s too late now. We’re going to need a different plan. Come on, we need to get out of here.”
Frustrated, Darrin followed his wife out of the hotel through the service entrance.
Caught up in the plot to eliminate Lila, he’d almost forgotten about the mysterious call from the man claiming to be his brother.
Now he remembered. What if the call had been real?
What if the man was here, just out of sight, waiting for the right time to make a connection?
It was probably wishful thinking. But Darrin had longed for a better ally than Simone—someone who would have his back and wouldn’t be always judging him, making demands, and putting him down. Someone like a brother.
But what was he thinking? He was stuck with what he had—and what he had was Simone. Nobody, especially a long-lost brother, was going to help him out of the mess he’d made.
Cheyenne sat in the stands of the main arena, sipping a Big Gulp and waiting for the cutting competition to begin.
The seat next to her was empty. Roper had bought a ticket and promised to join her, but he had yet to show up.
She was concerned about him. At a time when he needed food and rest, he was driving himself too hard, living on coffee and energy drinks, as if nothing mattered except winning the Run for a Million.