Chapter Forty-Four
“Is that a gun?” Kate whispered, loudly enough that anyone in a thirty-foot radius could hear it.
“Yes, it’s a gun,” Clayton said pedantically, his accent sharp as he sighed. “You’re lucky I didn’t accidentally discharge it, either. Getting gunshot residue off your hands is a chore.”
“Why would you know that?” Kate asked, horrified.
“That’s not really the question I’m most concerned with at the moment,” Juliette said as Clayton stepped onto the beach club deck.
Maybe she could rush him, wrestle him into the water.
Sure, she might take a bullet and bleed out in her least favorite geographic location, but Kate and Veeta could probably make their escape.
Clayton seemed to anticipate her plan, moving away from the edge of the boat. “How did you know we were here?”
“I didn’t, actually,” Clayton said, his tone far too light for someone holding them at gunpoint. “I’m taking the tender boat to Vancouver to book a flight for Vatican City.”
“Because you’re having a sudden religious experience?” Veeta asked.
“Because they don’t have an extradition treaty with the US,” Juliette guessed. “How did you know the police were after you?”
“I spotted an unmarked police car waiting outside my apartment. I made a few discreet calls, and apparently Brigitte Ellingham contacted Detective Marks and demanded he release her boyfriend based on new evidence she’d be providing shortly that it was me, in fact, who killed Bradley.
Now, I happen to know there couldn’t have been any evidence to discover.
But the Ellingham Group is about to make some key strategic announcements and I couldn’t have the police mucking it all up.
Whatever so-called evidence Brigitte believes she has, it’s all some great misunderstanding, obviously. I didn’t kill anyone.”
Kate shifted away from him. “And you have the gun because…”
“For protection, obviously,” Clayton said, waving the thing around like it wasn’t an instrument of death. “You never know when you might run afoul of trespassers trying to steal a luxury yacht.”
“We’re not stealing it,” Kate protested. “We were looking for evidence.”
“Evidence of what?” Clayton asked. “This ridiculous theory you’ve cooked up that I was somehow involved in Brad’s death? That I was some kind of genius who engineered Warren’s death to look like a natural heart attack?”
“No one said ‘genius,’” Veeta deadpanned.
“I told you, I left long before Brad was killed,” Clayton said, turning to Juliette. “The front gate security will confirm that.”
“Except we have footage of you sneaking back into the club,” Juliette said.
“You were smart, avoiding the cameras. Luring Brad there like you did with Chipper, sending him a message saying Chipper wanted to meet with him and discuss his gambling scheme. You sent the same message to Chipper from Brad’s phone after you’d killed him, to set him up for Brad’s murder.
But you missed the brand-new camera security installed a week ago to catch rogue raccoons.
It caught you sneaking back in through a service entrance. ”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clayton said, but for the first time since he arrived, he looked unsure of himself.
“For all I know, that footage has been doctored. Manufactured by Brigitte herself to protect her boyfriend, who actually killed Brad. The police have all the evidence they need against him.”
“But they don’t,” Juliette said, another piece finally clicking into place. “The resin, of course. I should have made the connection as soon as Brigitte said it.”
“What resin?” Clayton asked, his gaze narrowing.
“The substance they found under Brad’s fingernails,” Veeta said. “I thought that was from Troy’s raindrop display?”
Juliette shook her head. “That’s what Detective Marks thought, too, but Brigitte told me the lab said the resin didn’t match the kind Troy used. It was a higher-end resin, a specialty type. Like the kind used in art restoration.”
Juliette looked at Clayton expectantly, letting that bit of new evidence sink in.
“Do we know what she means?” Kate whispered loudly to Veeta.
“Clayton was preparing Warren’s art collection for donation,” Juliette said for Kate’s benefit. “Which included making minor restorations using glue and resin. High-end, specialty resin, I’d assume. With a very unique chemical compound.”
“There was a whole team of us working on the preparations,” Clayton said tightly. “It could have been any one of them. That’s hardly conclusive.”
“But it’s enough to get a warrant to search your apartment,” Juliette reasoned. “Which is probably what the unmarked car was doing there. How confident are you that you cleaned up all the evidence?”
Clayton’s gaze went hazy, his eyes fixed on some internal point of contemplation. Juliette took advantage of his distraction to slip her phone out to try to call Detective Marks.
“I don’t think so,” Clayton said, his gaze on her suddenly laser sharp as he raised the gun. “All of you, your phones. Now. Put them on the lounger.”
Juliette tossed her phone down, Veeta and Kate reluctantly following suit.
Clayton waited until they stepped clear of the chair before sweeping up the phones and dropping them hard on the beach club deck.
Juliette winced—both for the cracking glass sound they made as well as for the delicate teak decking—but that was nothing compared to Clayton squatting down and using the butt of the gun to smash each screen individually.
“I just bought that,” Kate said despondently as he swept the debris into the ocean water.
“I was due for an upgrade,” Veeta said with a shrug.
“I don’t think he plans to give you the chance,” Juliette said.
The smile he gave her was tight and cold. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you? Now you’re another problem I have to clean up.”
Juliette crossed her arms, her fear turning her combative. “What’s your game? You’re going to shoot us, dump us in the bay, and claim we were thieves? None of us are armed, and you haven’t called the cops. It’s a pretty flimsy plan.”
“Good point, I’ll be sure to give you the gun after you’re dead,” Clayton noted.
“You said it yourself, it’s hard to get rid of gunshot residue,” Juliette said. “Besides which, you’ll just make yourself a suspect in three more murders. You really think they’ll keep you in the temporary COO position with that stink on you? Please.”
“Are you … helping him?” Veeta asked. “What is the plan here?”
Juliette didn’t quite have one, but the longer she kept him talking, the longer she had to figure out a way to get them out of this mess.
“Fine, then I just need to get rid of you where no one will find you,” Clayton said through his teeth.
“Where are you going to do that?” Juliette asked, spreading her arms and looking around. “You’d have to drive us into the middle of the bay, and you made the point yourself that you can’t just disappear an entire luxury yacht without someone noticing.”
“But I can take the tender,” Clayton said, his eyes gleaming. “Or rather, you can.”
“Stop helping him get rid of us!” Kate hissed.
“Sorry, he’s just so bad at this,” Juliette said. “I can’t believe he ever thought he could kill Warren and Brad without getting caught.”
“Of course I could!” Clayton snapped. “I planned everything perfectly. Right down to the smallest details. Twenty years of managing Warren’s ridiculously overstuffed schedule taught me how to multitask. I accounted for everything!”
“Except for the Piedmonts dosing Warren with digitalis,” Juliette pointed out.
“Are you kidding me? I gave them the idea. They thought they were being clever, siphoning off membership funds, but Warren caught them almost immediately. Put me onto the books as an auditor. When I confronted them, Robert dissolved like an Alka-Seltzer tablet. June threatened to have me fired and blackballed. It was rather tiresome, but I saw an opportunity. It was all a bit of psychological language at that point, talking about Warren having a heart attack if he found out. How lucky we were that his heart was strong, unlike Robert and his digitalis. Little clues, until they believed they came up with the idea on their own. I even told them to make up with him by gifting him a bottle of whiskey at his birthday party.”
“And the short?” Juliette asked. Might as well get all the evidence now, even if they might not have a chance to use it against him.
“Weren’t you clever, checking the cockpit door access log,” Clayton said acidly. “Yes, I engineered the surge. I told Brad what sound system the band would need to bring in to account for the short.”
“Brad was in on it with you,” Veeta said.
“Barely,” Clayton scoffed. “The man was a buffoon, but it was his name in the will. The idiot had one measly job, to discharge the defibrillator while I caused the short, and he almost screwed that up. Claimed he felt lightheaded and unwell.”
“Because he drank the whiskey,” Juliette said. “He interrupted the Piedmonts while they were going to dose Warren, and they dosed the bottle instead. He drank a glass.”
“Of course he did,” Clayton muttered.
“But why kill Warren at all?” Juliette asked. “You said he took care of you, after your parents lost everything. He took you in, gave you a job. Saved you from ruin yourself.”
“Yes, and he never let me forget it,” Clayton said bitterly.
“For twenty years, he kept me in what he thought was my proper place. Never letting me leave to work somewhere else. Never letting me return to curating. I couldn’t even finish my degree!
He’d been promising Brad that he would retire and let him take over for years, and promising me that I could become COO to keep his son in line.
But the more incompetent Brad became, the less trust Warren placed in him.
But his hubris wouldn’t allow him to see that his son—his own flesh and blood—could never keep the company going. ”
“But what would killing Warren get you?” Kate asked. “Brad inherited everything.”
“Just as I promised him that he would,” Clayton said darkly.
“All he had to do was promote me to COO after he inherited, and I would take care of everything else. Instead, he went behind my back to that idiot Thomas Ogleby to offer him the position instead! He was going to gut the Ellingham Group, sell her off for parts and blow it all on some stupid sports bets. He wouldn’t listen to reason, the pompous little toad. ”
“So, you tried to set up Chipper Floyd for his murder, but got an even better mark in Troy Pham,” Juliette said. “A history of criminal offenses, a very public argument with Brad just before he was killed. A broken contract. A secret affair with Brad’s wife. He was perfect.”
“Until you started poking holes,” Clayton said, his gaze turning dark. “And now I’m afraid you’ve poked too many, and your boat is sinking. All of you, move.”
“Where are we going?” Kate asked, huddling closer to Juliette and Veeta as Clayton waved the gun at them threateningly.
“To the tender boat,” Clayton said. “To get rid of you once and for all.”