Dark Shadows (Gia Santella Crime Thrillers Book 11)

by Kristi Belcamino

  Amanda stood and came over to our table.

  “We’ve been invited to a private party on Île Sainte-Marguerite. They’ll take us there on Ahmed’s yacht. Just for an hour or two. I said yes.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Conner looked at me. “It’s an island nearby.”

  I drained my glass and shrugged. I was along for the ride tonight.

  The last thing I wanted was to be treated as the “adult” or have the others look to me to make decisions.

  The yacht was stunning. As yachts should be.

  Besides us, there were some other women clustered on the lounge chairs toward the prow.

  The night breeze felt amazing as we motored out into the dark bay. The night sky was filled with stars, and I inhaled deeply, feeling both grateful to be alive and full of sorrow for the lives I had lived and now grieved. It was bittersweet.

  Conner found me and wrapped his arms around me from behind. “You were shivering,” he said in my ear.

  “I was?”

  He didn’t respond and started to kiss my neck. I turned and, still wrapped in his arms, met his mouth with mine. It was a warm, delicious kiss, but it felt wrong. I pulled back and smiled.

  He looked alarmed.

  “What is it?”

  “Me and you? It’s not going to happen.”

  “Did I do something?” he asked, titling his head.

  “No!” I said emphatically. “You are beautiful and sexy and kind and…”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m being totally honest and transparent with you. For some reason, it just doesn’t feel right. It could be because of what I left back in Barcelona. Or maybe that’s not it at all.”

  He gave a sweet smile. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

  Relief flooded me. I smiled back. “Thank you.”

  On the deck above, we heard angry voices and both grew quiet.

  It was Owen and Amanda. They were arguing. She was crying. He sounded furious.

  Conner took my hand and pulled me under the awning so we were out of sight of whomever was on the upper deck. He held a finger to his lips.

  “You told me you would kill anyone I was with,” Amanda said. “Did you do it? Did you kill him?”

  “You admit you were cheating on me with him, then?” Owen’s voice was low and deadly.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Too fucking late for that, Amanda.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she said. “I heard you arguing with him. Hannah said she heard you tell Lucas you would kill him if he was sleeping with me. Did you say that? Did you kill him? Just answer me, Owen.”

  Her raised voice was shrill and angry.

  “Fuck you, Amanda.”

  Then there were footsteps stomping away over our head. Amanda’s loud sobs continued above us.

  Fuck.

  Conner took me by the hand and led me to the side of the boat. We put our elbows on the rail, and as we looked down at the water, he swore in a whisper. “Owen killed Lucas.”

  I exhaled loudly. “Maybe.”

  “I can’t believe it,” he said, still whispering. “I’ve known both those guys my whole life. I mean we grew up playing pee-wee football together. We’ve wrestled and even had fist fights over girls, but when it came down to it, we always said ‘bros over hoes.’”

  “Classy.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “But that’s the saying.”

  “Yeah, I know. I have a teenage daughter.”

  “You do?”

  “Well, adopted.”

  It wasn’t exactly true, but whatever. Legally or not, Rose was mine.

  Just then, I spotted Hannah sitting alone on a couch near a large TV screen. Nobody else was around.

  “Excuse me,” I said to Conner and went inside. I sat down beside her.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  She shook her head morosely. She was staring straight ahead at nothing.

  “Hey,” I said. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

  “What?” she said and turned her head to meet my eyes as if she just realized I was there.

  “Did you hear Owen threaten to kill Lucas if he was sleeping with Amanda?”

  I knew it was a very sensitive, loaded question, but I had to ask.

  Hannah closed her eyes and nodded.

  “So, it’s true.”

  She didn’t open her eyes but nodded again.

  “Do you think Owen killed Lucas?”

  Her eyes flew open, but she didn’t answer.

  Instead, she stood and walked away.

  When we docked at Île St. Marguerite, the others disappeared before I could get off the yacht.

  Ahmed was the only one who waited for me, giving a low bow as I came up from below.

  He was older, maybe in his fifties. He wore expensive jeans, leather sandals, and a white silk shirt. The neckline shone with gold necklaces. He had a large, hooked nose, dark, deep-set eyes, and a great smile, which he now flashed at me.

  I couldn’t help but smile back. “You are very sweet to invite us onboard and take us here,” I said.

  He shrugged. “I get bored easy. To have young, beautiful people around makes me happy.”

  I gave him another look. I wanted to tell him I knew exactly how he felt, but instead I just looped my arm through his. “Come on, captain, let’s go explore.”

  “I will protect you,” he said.

  “Oooh, from what?”

  I’d never heard of the island.

  “This island contains the fortress prison where the Man in the Iron Mask was held in the seventeenth century.”

  “Huh,” I said. “Never heard of the guy.”

  Ahmed laughed. “Some say his ghost still haunts the island. I will tell you the tale.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “I’m in the mood for a good ghost story.”

  Not far from where we landed was a small village with about twenty buildings. Some looked like homes. A few were cafes.

  “Should we skip the drinks and check out the prison?” I said, eyeing all the drunk young people at the sidewalk tables.

  “I’m afraid you shall be disappointed in the prison,” he said. “It has been turned into a youth hostel.”

  “Boring.”

  “Exactly.”

  Beyond the small settled area was a thick forest.

  “Is the prison that way?”

  Ahmed shook his head. “That is uninhabited.”

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  “Why don’t we go by the fort,” he said. “There is a museum there now and a cemetery next door. You should at least see it while you are here.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  As we walked, we past a walled-off area.

  “What’s that?”

  “Aha. That is La Grand Jardin.”

  “Can we go inside?”

  “It was purchased recently and is now private. I have been inside though. It is quite impressive.”

  In moments, we were at the cemetery. I could see the fortress prison beyond the gravestones.

  “Wounded French soldiers who were brought here to get well but died are buried in this cemetery,” Ahmed said. “We have to wait in line. They limit visitors to keep the area nice.”

  I looked over and saw about ten people in line outside the big cemetery gates.

  “I’m super interested in that, but let me run to the restroom first,” I said.

  “I will escort you,” he said.

  “Nah, I’m good, just save our spot in line.”

  The building housing the bathrooms was some ways away. When I got there, it seemed deserted but I heard a sound that sent my heart racing.

  “Stop!”

  It was a woman’s voice. It was coming from behind the building.

  “I don’t want to do that,” she said.

  “That’s not what you told me earlier.”

  It was Owen’s voice.

  “I’
m going to scream,” the woman said, her voice growing shrill.

  I didn’t wait to hear Owen’s answer. I was around the corner and yanking him off the young woman, whom he had pressed up against the building. He whirled and came at me swinging. I aimed a well-placed kick on his neck and he went flying, landing with a thud on the ground.

  When we turned, the woman was gone.

  “You are a fucking piece of shit,” I said.

  “Hey, Amanda can cheat on me, so I can cheat on her.”

  “That’s not cheating, fuckhead. That’s assault.”

  “As soon as she told me to stop I did.”

  “Didn’t sound that way to me,” I said and glared at him, my arms crossed over my chest.

  “I swear.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I said. “I don’t know if you had anything to do with killing Lucas, but I promise you if you lift a finger against anyone around me, I will kill you.”

  “What the fuck?” he said.

  Right then a group of guys came around the corner.

  Owen was still on the ground, his legs out in front of him, his lip bleeding.

  “Oh, sorry,” one of the young men said.

  “It’s all good,” I said. “I’m all done here.”

  I took the time to walk back to the cemetery to calm down. I’d have to figure out how to deal with Owen. For now, he knew better than to lift a finger against anyone when I was around.

  We were reading some of the headstones when my cell rang.

  It was Hannah. She was hysterical. It was difficult to make out what she said, but the gist of it was that someone had tried to kill her. She’d become separated from the group and got lost on a path leading through the thick woods. After she heard some noises, she realized someone was following her. When she turned around, the person stood there in the dark and wouldn’t respond to her questions. She ran for her life, and the person chased her. Luckily, she told me, she came across a group on the path ahead. When they all turned around to confront her pursuer, they had fled.

  “Did you recognize the person?”

  “No,” she said. “I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “I walked with this group back to the prison.”

  I looked around. Then I saw her. She was sitting on a small wall with her legs casually crossed, swinging her feet. She didn’t look traumatized. Good.

  “We’re here.”

  I hung up and turned to Ahmed. “Hate to be a spoil sport, but I think we need to leave the island.”

  After everyone was rounded up to get back on the yacht, people crowded around Hannah to ask her what happened.

  Nobody asked about Owen and where he was.

  I stood nearby, trying to act casual, but watched everyone’s faces and postures closely. Especially Owen’s. He stood in the back by the bar, pouring and downing shot after shot.

  Sabine sat with her arm around Hannah, rubbing her back.

  “I don’t know what happened,” she said. “One minute you were with us, and the next, when I turned around, you were gone.”

  Hannah blinked. “Yeah. I stopped to read this placard, and think I ended up taking the wrong path.”

  Amanda sat on the couch across from Hannah with a strange look on her face.

  Things were obviously still very frosty between the two friends.

  Owen came over and handed Amanda a tumbler of golden liquid, which she downed. And then she leaned forward with her elbows on her thighs, staring at Hannah.

  “What?” Hannah said. “Just fucking say it.”

  “Seems strange that you were the only one attacked tonight.”

  I swiveled my head toward Owen. His face had grown sheet white.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just seems a little coincidental that you got lost and you got attacked.”

  Sabine glanced at both women’s faces, clearly worried.

  She cleared her throat and said, “Well, I guess Amanda got lost too.”

  “You did?” Hannah said, and her eyes narrowed.

  Amanda shrugged. “Only for a few minutes.”

  “Oh, how fucking convenient,” Hannah said. “You disappeared at the exact same time that I was attacked?”

  I waited, but nobody mentioned Owen leaving the group. What the hell?

  At this point, Amanda had leaped out of her seat and was clawing at Hannah before anyone could react. She screamed, “How dare you? How dare you accuse me? You act like Miss Fucking Innocent, but we both know differently, don’t we?”

  Hannah was fighting back. “You shut the fuck up if you know what’s good for you.”

  Some idiots also onboard were yelling, “Cat fight.”

  Sabine and Conner rushed in and broke up the fight, each taking one woman off to the side.

  I looked over at Owen. He was slumped at a bar stool looking into his drink.

  12

  Back on the yacht, I pretended to guess how old they were then feigned disbelief until they showed me their licenses to prove it. Armed with their full names and dates of birth, I called Danny in San Francisco.

  “I need everything you can dig up on these two women,” I said and reeled off Amanda and Hannah’s information. I also gave him Owen’s first and last name, saying all I knew is that he was from L.A.

  “I know it’s not much but anything you can find would help.”

  Danny said he’d get back to me in a few hours. He was away from home right then.

  “What?”

  This was welcome news.

  He cleared his throat. Was he embarrassed?

  “I’m, uh, well, my girlfriend and I, we started walking every day, and we’re on a walk.”

  “That fantastic, Danny.”

  I worried about that kid so much. He had a disease called gigantism where he grew too much and too fast and might die young. But I tried to never think about that last aspect of it.

  Danny finding a girlfriend a few years back was the best thing ever. She was a good influence and took care of him, making him eat real food like fruits and vegetables instead of endless boxes of pizza. Now, she was making him walk. I could not be happier.

  “Take your time, D,” I said. “And tell Rachel hello for me.”

  I hung up.

  From the kitchen window, I could see that Sabine, Clint, and Conner were out at the pool. For a second that worried me. But I figured Amanda and Owen were probably in their room and Hannah, hopefully, was in hers. Keeping those two women apart was key right now.

  I had just headed outside when my phone rang.

  It was Commissaire Boucher. I’d given him my number when he interviewed me. I pivoted away from the pool area and went off to a small garden on the side of the house.

  “We will be there in the morning to make an arrest.”

  “Keep talking,” I said.

  He paused as if waiting for me to say something more.

  My heart beat double-time. I closed my eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

  Calm the fuck down, Santella. Think. He remained silent, obviously waiting for me to speak first. I inhaled sharply.

  “I’m assuming it’s not me you’re going to arrest, or you wouldn’t have called first,” I said.

  “Very astute,” he said.

  “Is that sarcasm?”

  He gave a small chuckle. “We will be taking Amanda into custody. Based on your statement and some other interesting evidence.”

  I frowned. “With all due respect, I don’t think she has it in her,” I said. “If you’re arresting her just based on what I overheard, please rethink this. I can’t imagine her doing it.”

  “That’s what I thought at first, as well,” he admitted. “Which is why the arrest has been so delayed, but ultimately I cannot argue with the evidence.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?” I said.

  “Ryder vouched for you.”

  “Huh.” I wondered again what his connection with t
he police department was.

  “I want you to be aware of the situation to keep yourself safe.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” I said. “But I don’t understand. What else makes you think it’s Amanda?”

  He sighed.

  “Blood on some of her clothing. In her suitcase, we found a supply of a drug we suspect will come back in Lucas’s toxicology report,” he said. “We also drew blood from Hannah. We think both of them were drugged. I will see you in the morning. I suggest you lock the door to your room tonight.”

  “Like I said, you don’t have to worry about me, but I still have a hard time believing that Amanda is a killer.”

  “Goodnight,” he said and hung up.

  I walked back toward the door leading into the house. As I did, I saw a figure on one of the balconies upstairs melt into the dark shadows. I strained my eyes but couldn’t see anyone. Someone had been eavesdropping. The balcony was a public one off of a sitting room upstairs. One that anyone could have accessed.

  I would be keeping Ryder’s gun close tonight.

  In addition to locking my bedroom doors, I set an expensive-looking vase on the floor against it, hoping the sound of it shattering or, at the very least, falling over, would wake me if someone managed to unlock my door. I stuck Ryder’s gun on the nightstand and crawled under the covers, leaving the French doors open to the balcony.

  It would take someone with the superpowers of Spiderman to get onto my balcony. Or…someone with a ladder. Thinking this, I got out of bed and closed the doors, irritated that I’d lost the cool night breeze.

  I didn’t think anyone in the house had the balls to confront me, but who knew? Plus, honestly, despite the detective’s confidence in his evidence, I had a hell of a hard time believing anyone in the house, especially Amanda, could kill anyone.

  If so, she was a damn good actress.

  If I had to pick one of them, my money would’ve been on Owen.

  I reached over and felt for my phone and called the detective. It went straight to voicemail.

  I opened my mouth to leave a message, but then didn’t know what to say. What could I say? I thought that Lucas and Amanda were having an affair and that Owen killed his competition?

  I hung up. Maybe I would try to have a conversation with the detective in person the next day.