Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
In hindsight, Kate would understand she had brought this on herself. You never jinx a perfect game, her father always said, and she should have known the same would be true for disastrous wedding weekends among a maybe cursed family.
All that insight would come later, because now the room descended into absolute chaos. There was screaming, shoving, and Kate even swore she heard squawking. Heaven help them all if a bird got into the room. The lights flickered on and dropped out again, the generator on its last dying gasps, as someone screamed for order.
“Kennedy!” someone called. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay!” came Kennedy’s voice, warbly and off-kilter. “I can’t see anything, though. There’s glass everywhere.”
“Get her up here!” said the bridesmaids as a chorus.
“Please, we need to cover the window!” came Abraham’s voice, shrill and frantic. “Quickly, before it floods!”
And in the darkness and confusion, Kate saw a chance to do exactly as Jake had said and embrace the chaos. She could just make out Kennedy’s silhouette against the flashing lightning, Simon trying to find his way through the crowd toward the front where Kennedy belonged.
“Jake, I need you to distract Simon,” Kate said, already heading for the aisle.
“How do you expect me to do that?” Jake asked, exasperated. But he followed after her like a good Blake.
“Make him help you fortify the window,” Kate said. “I need to talk to Kennedy.”
While Jake called loudly for help securing the window, Kate pitched her voice high and said she was bringing Kennedy somewhere safe, hoping nobody would recognize her voice. She took Kennedy by the elbow, the other woman giving a little squeak of surprise as Kate pulled her free of Simon’s grasp.
“Don’t worry, it’s just me, Kate,” Kate said, thinking that maybe her presence might not be as reassuring as she expected. “Let’s get you somewhere dry while they repair the window.”
“Okay, sure,” Kennedy said breathlessly, letting Kate lead her into the hallway. Kate grabbed randomly at passing door handles until she found one that was unlocked, practically shoving Kennedy in just as the lights staggered back to life. “Oh, it was so stuffy in there! I was feeling swoony all over again. Thank you.”
Kennedy was shaken and pale as she plopped into an upholstered chair, looking every inch the worn-out bride ready to be done with her wedding festivities. The room was crowded with old furniture in dusty coverings, and Kate managed to lean against something she hoped hadn’t been alive at one point. The lights in the room were older and dimmer, the glass smudged and the bulbs such a deep yellow they bordered on orange. It lent the room a spooky glow, especially when the lights sparked bright and dropped low again.
“I should just give it up, shouldn’t I?” Kennedy said, sounding as miserable as Kate had ever heard her. “This whole weekend has been a sham.”
“It must be quite a topsy-turvy weekend,” Kate ventured. “Your aunt’s big announcement last night was pretty upsetting. Donating the island and the family trust to the historical society? That must have been a real kick in the teeth when you found out. Last night.”
“What?” Kennedy blinked in surprise before shaking her head. “Oh, I knew about the donation ages ago.”
Wow, was Kennedy going to make it this easy for her? “You knew she was going to donate the island? Did you try to stop her?”
“Just the opposite, actually. I was helping her with the historical society.”
“Really?” Kate said, disappointed. The confession wasn’t going as swimmingly as she’d imagined.
“I mean, I was surprised she announced it this weekend, and I didn’t know anything about her inviting an inspector to finalize the deal, but this has been in the works for months. She’d gotten pretty secretive about the final details once she started working with whoever this inspector is from the society, but that’s how Auntie R always is. She doesn’t like to jinx things.”
“But in your speech you said you wanted the island cared for by people who understood its history, who loved what it represented.”
“Oh, I do,” Kennedy said, nodding enthusiastically. “That’s why I thought the historical society was such a great idea. Who better to care for an old place like this than a bunch of history buffs? I knew the rest of the family wouldn’t feel the same, though. I was hoping maybe my speech would inspire them to see this for the opportunity it was, to let the real experts keep our family legacy alive. I love my cousins, but they’re not exactly fiscally responsible. And no one really understands how much upkeep the Manor requires. It’s constantly flooding, the wood warps, none of the doors close right, and it’s impossible to get reputable contractors out here to the islands. Auntie R has kept up with the place because she considers it our legacy, but the rest of us prefer, you know, civilization.”
Well, that certainly shot Kate’s theory in the foot about Kennedy being angry at Rebecca for giving away the island and the trust. Still, maybe there was a different angle to work here.
“What about your inheritance money? I heard she could—er, can be a bit of a stickler about letting people have their money.”
“Oh, I took my inheritance a few years ago,” Kennedy said.
Yet another new piece of the puzzle to consider. “What for?”
“Simon Says needed a cash infusion to stay alive, so I became a silent partner in the business,” Kennedy said. “I used to visit his offices, you know, with my dad when I was little. It felt like a second home away from home. When I knew Simon needed help running things, I couldn’t turn my back on him. I never really planned on claiming my inheritance, but it was worth it to keep Simon Says going. Even Auntie R could hardly deny the importance of the arts to the local culture.”
“Your aunt seems in the habit of denying most things,” Kate murmured, thinking of her heated exchange with Kennedy’s cousin. “What about Cassidy? It must be so hard for her, being cut out of the will entirely.”
“Oh, Cass.” Kennedy sighed, shaking her head. “I love her so much, really I do, but sometimes I wish she’d just… pull herself together. I know her dad basically cut her off, but she really did rack up an impressive amount of debt in a shocking amount of time. I tried to talk her out of it, you know. The food truck. I told her start smaller, work in a kitchen, get your feet under you before branching out on your own. But I think she was just so fixated on the Hempstead idea of making your own way in the world. It’s kind of been hammered into us since childhood. I’m worried she thinks she can talk Auntie R into letting her into the will, that she’s banking on getting her inheritance back to pay off the loans to keep her business afloat.” Kennedy shook her head sadly. “But Auntie R has taken such a hard line with the inheritance fund. And once the historical society deal goes through, well… I suppose that’s it for the Hempstead family fortune. I’ll be fine, I never really wanted to play the pampered heir and I’ve got savings from my mom. But Richie and Cassidy… I worry about them.”
Which brought Kate’s suspicions back around to Richie, Steven, and Cassidy. The three people who stood to lose the most if Rebecca gave away the family trust.
“Kennedy—” Kate started, pausing with a frown. “Do you smell that?”
“Smell what?” Kennedy asked, scrunching up her nose. “Wait, is that…”
“Smoke!” Kate said, peering into the depths of the crowded room. The furniture was so musty and the lights so dim she’d hardly noticed it at first, but now there were greasy black plumes obscuring the lamps and choking the air in the crowded space. The lamps popped and buzzed, unused to the surges of electricity pulsing through them, and Kate wondered if they’d even been used in the last century.
“We need to get out of here!” Kate cried, as Kennedy inexplicably moved toward the source of the smoke. “Kennedy, what are you doing?”
“The entire estate is made of hundred-year-old timber,” Kennedy said, pulling a blanket off a nearby armoire with a flair. Kate had the inexplicable thought that Kennedy would make an excellent magician’s assistant. “The lights must have short-circuited, and this room is full of dry old fabric. If we don’t stop the fire, the house will burn.”
Kate looked longingly toward the door, so close and yet so far. Kennedy was right; this whole place would go up like a box of loose matches if they didn’t stop the fire. Not that she wouldn’t mind shutting down this Haunted Mansion ride, but if it were going to burn she’d prefer it wait until she was well off the island.
“Kennedy, wait,” Kate said, struggling with a heavy tarp. She didn’t have nearly the same grace as Kennedy, but what she lacked in finesse she made up for in strength. She gathered it in her arms, hauling it toward the far end of the room where Kennedy was already beating at the smoky flames eating through what was probably a priceless antique.
Together they managed to smother the flames before they spread to the rest of the room, but they couldn’t stop the noxious smoke that gusted out each time they flapped their blankets, smothering the air and settling heavily in their lungs. Kate remembered reading about how most victims don’t die by fire, but rather through smoke inhalation, the hot ash irreparably damaging their esophagus. She coughed, her throat feeling ragged.
“We have to get out of here,” Kate rasped, sure that she could already feel her throat muscles disintegrating. She tugged at Kennedy’s arm as the smoke billowed out, burning her eyes and filling the room with black soot. Kennedy’s dress was ruined, not that that would matter if they suffocated. “Kennedy, the fire is out, but the smoke will kill us!”
“Okay,” Kennedy said, giving the smoldering ruin of a stuffed armchair one last vigorous smothering. Smoke burst upward and Kate cowered back, but the smoke didn’t come for her. Instead, it seemed to get sucked away, toward the wall. Kate’s eyes were streaming and she could barely see, but she could swear there was a crack in the wall. Another secret opening.
“Hey!” someone shouted from the far side of the room, and Juliette Winters stood on the threshold, waving away the smoke. “What the hell is going on?”
“There was a fire,” Kate said, and even she knew how stupid it sounded.
“A fire ,” Juliette repeated as Kate led Kennedy through the mess of furniture and ducked out into the hall, both of them coughing. “So now you’re resorting to arson?”
“No!” Kate yelped, which sounded way guiltier than she wanted it to. “I was just getting Kennedy somewhere safe and dry while they fixed the window.”
“They covered the window several minutes ago,” Juliette said, still glaring at her. “Which you would know, if you hadn’t kidnapped Kennedy and held her hostage in here. What did she try to do to you, Ken?”
“Oh, Juliette, don’t be silly,” Kennedy said, before dissolving into another fit of coughing. “Kate and I were just talking and one of the lamps shorted out from the power surge. It’s a good thing we were in there, to be honest. If we hadn’t been, we might not have caught the fire in time. We should send someone to check the rest of the house. We didn’t include the lights and wiring in the latest round of restorations.”
The lights buzzed low and sputtered back at half their power, as if to prove Kennedy’s point. Kennedy sighed as she looked up at them, her hair in disarray and her dress streaked in gray and black. Still, even with the damage, she looked like a movie version of someone in a disaster, a single smudge on her face only highlighting the curve of her cheekbone. Kate didn’t imagine she looked so glamorously disheveled.
“We’ll have to delay the ceremony,” Kennedy said, her voice small and sad. “Spencer will be crushed.”
“We’re not delaying anything,” Juliette said, giving Kate a hard look. “You’re getting married today, and no one is stopping it. Come on, I can fix you up in two minutes.”
“Really, Juliette,” Kennedy started, but Juliette took her hand possessively and mouthed something threating that Kate didn’t quite catch. Which was probably just as well.
“No arguments,” Juliette said, leading Kennedy back toward the ceremony room. “You’re getting married right now.”
“Okay, let’s get married!” Kennedy cheered. But even she couldn’t maintain her usual cheer in the face of such a tumultuous weekend. Kate could only hope they could get her to the altar unscathed. Because she was almost positive it hadn’t been the lights that started the fire, even though someone wanted it to look that way. Someone had used a secret passage to finish the job they’d started last night and kill Kennedy.