by Sonia Parin
“Really?”
“Yes. Think of me as the gunslinger with the white hat. I’m one of the good guys and we all know the good guy always wins in the end.”
“That sounds like fiction to me. How about I give you a taste of reality.” Millicent pointed the gun at her, took a couple of steps and pressed it against her nose. “This is where I’m going to aim.”
A scream swirled all the way up to her throat and got stuck there. Her one and only weapon and she hadn’t been able to use it.
Millicent grinned and stepped away, her gaze sliding over to the window again.
Eve tried to draw moisture into her mouth, only then realizing it had dried up. If she caved in to fear now, her body would go into lockdown and she’d end up cowering.
Eve Lloyd, you are not a victim.
You’re much stronger than this.
Focus.
She looked around her. Her gaze landed on a vase sitting on a table within reach. She tried to estimate its value. If she could rely on Allan to create a distraction, she might just be able to grab the vase and swing it at Millicent. Allan’s chair was close to the fireplace. He could lunge for the fire poker...
She tried to communicate this idea with her eyes, but Allan wasn’t even blinking.
“Allan.”
He cleared his throat.
“Allan, I’ve been meaning to ask you. I saw you with Elizabeth-May a few days ago at Shelby’s Table.” When she saw him respond with a blink, she continued, “You appeared to be talking about having to go back to the Stevenson house and how no amount of money was worth it. What was she talking about?”
Again, he cleared his throat and appeared to be thinking about it.
“Come on,” she coaxed him. “You can tell me.”
He gave Millicent a furtive glance. “Charlotte was letting us in on an investment with huge returns,” he murmured.
“Was this via Jon O’Brian?”
He nodded.
“Bummer. I guess you missed out.”
He shook his head. “She’d already signed the deal. It’s going ahead. New building with eighty percent occupancy before it’s even been built.”
“Wow.” Eve saw Millicent check her watch and bite her bottom lip. She looked impatient. “Did she make it a condition to you attending the wedding?” She wouldn’t be surprised if Charlotte had used bribery to force her so-called friends to come.
Allan shifted in his chair and gave a small nod. “Coming here was a detour for us.”
A detour from the regular dazzling ports they no doubt visited. “This is the part I don’t understand. Why here?”
“Ask her.”
Eve thought he meant she should ask Charlotte but he actually looked up at Millicent.
Eve lowered her voice in a mock whisper, “Let me guess. Lana and Millicent twisted Jon’s arm and forced him to hold the event here.” They must have had something on him. Eve’s mouth gaped open. “Did Lana threaten to tell Charlotte they’d been engaged?”
Allan’s eyes widened. He hadn’t known. But Millicent had. She gave a schoolgirl like snicker.
“Wow. They blackmailed Jon O’Brian and then Millicent killed him.” She waited to hear her deny it. “It doesn’t make sense. I thought he’d become Lana’s go to person for contacts.”
“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry,” Millicent murmured.
“What happened? Did Jon renege on the deal?”
“He could give orders but when the tables turned,” Millicent shrugged. “He forced our hands. He said he’d already done enough, but we knew that after he married Charlotte he’d have access to even more people with serious money and bottomless budgets for parties.”
“And that’s when you fed him poisoned sushi.” Eve hummed. “Fugu is not readily available—”
“It is if you know where to look. There’s a black-market for it and some strange people out there wanting to get a taste of death.”
“So, Jon dumped Lana and she agreed to keep silent so long as Jon hooked her up with wealthy clients. That sounds like a profitable setup.”
“Even better now that we got rid of the middleman. He was taking a huge cut.”
She’d been right about skimming... “And you think Charlotte is going to continue to do business with you and even recommend you to her friends. Will that include Dante? Are you expecting him to open doors for you?”
Millicent looked surprised.
“I saw him and Lana earlier today. I’m thinking Dante requires a hefty entrance fee for those doors you want opened.”
“You are a smart cookie. That’s actually when Lana decided she couldn’t risk having you around to ruin it for us.”
“I wonder if Dante realizes he might be next? You probably already have a plan in the back-burner. Not poison because you wouldn’t want to raise suspicion. Something else... a boating accident perhaps? One drink too many and he goes overboard, but only after you’ve set yourselves up with new contacts and accounts. Where does it stop, Millicent?”
“It stops with you shutting up.”
“I can’t help being chatty, especially as these might be my last words. As I told someone else before, you don’t want to leave me guessing because I might come back and haunt you.”
Millicent rolled her eyes. At least she didn’t question her sanity the way the other person had...
Eve turned to Allen. “I bet you’re kicking yourself for coming at all.” She sat back and made a show of twiddling her thumbs. “Hey, Millicent. I think you’ve been stood up.” She fixed her gaze on Allan who appeared to be more alert now. His eyes jumped around the room. She hoped that meant he was trying to think of a way out of their dilemma.
Eve stretched and yawned. “You can’t kill us here, Millicent.”
“Why not?” The lightness in Millicent’s voice suggested she’d relaxed into her role. She felt confident. In charge. Empowered.
Eve imagined her thinking everything was working according to plan. Even better, she thought she’d get away with killing two innocent people. Eve could only hope she wasn’t jumping at the bit and eager to get the job done.
“Why not? Because it’ll give my inn a bad reputation. There’s already been one death here. Another one will put us on the map for entirely the wrong reasons. It’ll become the ideal destination for killers.”
“What do you care?” Millicent chortled. “You’ll be dead.”
“That’s beside the point.”
“You’re crazy.”
Eve gave her a lifted eyebrow look that questioned her sanity. “Me? Crazy? I think you’re projecting. For starters, you’re the one with a gun and delusional enough to think you can poison one man and shoot a couple of other innocent people. Are you thinking of turning this into your next career? Surely you can see there’s limited scope for advancement.” Time, she needed to buy more time so Jack could get here and rescue her. But what if Lana got here first? That would be the end of her...
“You do love the sound of your own voice,” Millicent said.
“Hey, someone has to be the voice of reason. It might as well be me. And here’s something else I just thought about. You won’t have to worry about criminal career progression because the place where you’re going—”
Millicent pressed the gun against her nose again.
“You were saying?”
Her heart gave a protesting thump against her chest. “There’s another reason why you can’t kill us. Your DNA is everywhere. I bet you’ve lost track of what you’ve touched and every time you flick your hair, you’re scattering more evidence. You’ll never get away with it.”
“I will if I torch the place after I put a bullet hole in you.”
She hadn’t thought of that. Her beautiful inn, reduced to ashes even before she’d had a chance to welcome her first guests. She should have purchased that expensive French oven. At least she would have had a moment of pleasure to think about while she drew her last breath...
Millicent waved the gun at her. “You didn’t think of that.” She laughed. “A nice fire will get rid of everything.”
“Well, if you’re going to do it... then go ahead. Shoot me.”
“Eve.”
She turned to Allan and watched a drop of perspiration trail down from his forehead. “What?”
“Please,” he mouthed.
“Allan, I don’t understand what you’re so afraid of. There are two of us and only one of her. Okay, I’ll give her an extra half point because she’s holding a gun, but we still outnumber her.”
Millicent dug inside her pocket and drew out a cell phone. She must have set it on vibrate because Eve didn’t hear it ring.
“Hello. Where are you?”
She watched Millicent’s eyebrows draw down. Something had happened. Plans had been changed and Millicent didn’t look pleased about it.
“What do you mean?”
Her cheeks turned a violent shade of red.
“That’s not what we agreed on.”
Things were looking up, Eve thought. She had another quick glance around her. If she grabbed hold of the vase it could either land on Millicent’s head or it could distract her long enough for Eve to lunge at her. In which case, Eve needed a backup plan. What else could she use as a weapon?
Her adrenaline? If she acted quickly, she could bend at the waist and ram into Millicent. Throw in a loud growl, anything to create chaos, and it might just work.
Speed. If she took action, she needed to be fast.
And, with any luck, Allan might snap out of his stupor and help her.
Millicent’s voice hitched up. “We had it all worked out. Why are you changing the plans now?”
Eve frowned. Had she heard a car pulling up? Her heart punched against her chest again, the rhythm faster, more erratic.
Stay calm, Eve.
Millicent gave a throaty growl and disconnected the call.
“You know that call is going to be traced.”
“You think I’d be stupid enough to use my own phone?” Millicent spat out.
When Allan shifted in his seat Millicent swung toward him.
“Don’t move.”
Okay. She was losing it. Panicking. Any minute now and she’d do something stupid...
Like shoot them.
La Cornue Château Series, Eve. Think of your beautiful French oven.
Yes. She didn’t know how she’d pull it off, but she would buy it for her inn. And she would get it in aquamarine. Everything else in the kitchen would be eggshell white.
“You’ve been ditched,” she taunted.
“Shut up.”
“Lana’s dumped you. Wake up, Millicent. You’re the sacrificial lamb. If you go ahead and shoot us, who’s to say Lana won’t be waiting for you outside ready to put a bullet in you. Someone has to take the fall.” Eve forced herself to keep her eyes on Millicent but a part of her wanted desperately to look out the window and see who’d arrived. She was sure she’d heard a car pull up while Millicent had been on the phone with her accomplice. “Millicent, you know the police are never going to stop looking for the killer. And you’re out of luck because the detective in charge is my boyfriend. He’ll never rest until you’re behind bars.”
Millicent’s eyes widened slightly. Her lips parted. Her gaze dropped.
Had Eve’s warnings filtered through?
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Millicent’s voice carried an edge of doubt.
Eve scrambled to think of something else to add, something that would chip away at Millicent’s determination.
“She’s gone and left you to clean up the mess. But you’re not walking away. You’re in too deep. Someone can place you at the cocktail party. Trust me when I say Detective Jack Bradford is thorough. He’ll never give up.”
Millicent’s eyes narrowed. Her lips firmed. She raised the gun and pointed it at Eve.
“What on earth is going on here?”
They all turned toward the hallway.
“Oh... oh... what... you’re holding a...” Charlotte wavered, her eyes wide with shock and then Eve saw it.
That precise moment when Charlotte decided to take matters into her own hands.
Eve didn’t know which came first.
The gunshot.
Or the large handbag being flung toward Millicent.
Then came the rage.
Charlotte exploded with an eruption that sent chills up Eve’s spine.
“You shot my Birkin bag. Do you have any idea how long I had to wait to get that bag?” She rushed at Millicent.
Eve had a second to react, grabbing the vase, she threw it at Millicent’s hand knocking the gun away just as Charlotte grabbed hold of Millicent’s hair and began pulling, all the while continuing to rage about her Birkin bag.
Eve tackled them to the ground. She held Millicent down and made a mental note to ask Jill about Birkin bags.
“Charlotte. That’s enough. We’ve got her pinned down.”
Charlotte looked up, her perfect hair cascading around her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed down to slits.
“Charlotte. I never thought I’d say this. I’m so glad to see you.”
Chapter Fifteen
“A Birkin bag,” Jill said in awe. “Handmade in France by Hermès. They’re the same people who made the Grace Kelly bag. They’re not sold to just anyone. If you’re not a footballer’s wife, super rich or royalty, you have to go on a waiting list.”
“How much are we talking about? Several thousand dollars?” Eve asked.
“Five figures. It’s all about exclusivity.”
Eve threw another log in the fire and settled back on the couch.
“So, Charlotte saved the day,” Jill mused.
Eve stared into space. She owed Charlotte her life. “Yes. She’s the heroine.” If she hadn’t changed her mind about not wanting to talk to her...
Eve didn’t want to think about it.
“Wow. And her handbag has a bullet hole in it now.”
“Apparently the insurance refuses to pay. I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes. They’re going to get an earful from her.”
Mira looked up from her book. “You have to admit, Eve, Charlotte has acquired some redeeming qualities. She could just as easily have run for her life, but instead, she rescued you.”
“It doesn’t make me indebted to her. Please, don’t even suggest it.”
“By the sounds of it, Millicent is the one who should be grateful,” Mira said, “ If you hadn’t pulled Charlotte off her, she would have been torn to pieces.”
“I think I heard Charlotte say she was suing her for criminal damages against her handbag.” Eve closed her eyes and listened to the gentle crackle of the fire.
Jill sighed. “I was looking forward to the wedding. Any chance you and Jack might hurry it along and get married?”
“Not any time soon. Sorry.”
“And the yachts. I liked going to those parties and meeting new people. I guess everyone’s already left.”
Eve nodded. “There was a mass exodus of yachts. We have the island to ourselves again.” She checked her watch. Jack had promised to stop by after he got through all the paperwork. He’d arrived a few seconds after she’d thrown the vase at Millicent, his stern expression speaking volumes. She’d have a lot of explaining to do...
She considered calling him when she saw him wave at her from the back door.
“Jack. Come in. That must have been quick work. I didn’t expect you to come by until tomorrow or the next day. Does this mean you’ve already caught Lana Bishop?”
He nodded. “We found her aboard Dante Hildegard’s yacht.”
“Her alibi. What made you think to look for her there?”
He gave her a small smile. “You gave us the lead. You saw her with Dante and then she didn’t turn up at the house. We figured she would have tried to position herself somewhere with an alibi. Fortunately for us, she still hadn’t disposed of her cell phone so we were
able to match the call she made to Millicent’s cell phone.”
“If Millicent hadn’t told me she’d sourced the Fugu from the black-market, I would have pointed the finger at Dante. He’s recently been to Japan.”
“We already have two people in custody. I think that’s enough for now.”
“Have you figured out which one did the deed?”
“A team effort. Millicent sourced the Fugu liver, Lana prepared the pâté, and Millicent took it to the party, hanging around long enough to make sure it was used.”
“But who thought of it all?”
“They bounced ideas off each other, much the same way you do with Jill. Eventually they reached the same conclusion. They had to get rid of Jon O’Brian. By the way, Charlotte McLain gave us a piece of her mind saying if you hadn’t cornered the suspects we’d still be chasing our tails.”
“Sorry. She can be hard.”
He brushed his hand across her cheek. From the first moment she’d met Jack, she’d known his concern for her was genuine. “Is that chocolate I smell?”
“Yes. My chocolate fudge tart is just about ready to come out of the oven. I made one earlier in the week but Jill says she didn’t get enough and after what I put her through, she claims I owe her. You’ll have to wait for it to cool down. Come on in. We’re in the sitting room sharing war stories.”
“Hang on.”
“Oh, boy. Here it comes.”
“Eve.”
“Yes?”
“Do you realize how close you came this time?”
“I thought you appreciated my input.”
“I do, but in future—”
“Oh, no. This is it. We’ve had enough murder and mayhem on the island. Chances are we’re now in the clear.”
“In future,” he repeated, “Would you mind sticking to suspect lists and theory?”
“No more field work?”
“No more rogue tactics.”
“But I let you know exactly what I was doing. I kept you right in the loop.”
“You set up a meeting with your top suspects and then you ditched Jill to go it alone.”
“It goes to show how responsible I am.” She sighed. “Look, you have nothing to worry about. I’m going to be so busy setting up my inn, I won’t have any time to get mixed up in any more murders.”