Her Last Summer: A Veronica Lee Thriller

by Melinda Woodhall

  Thinking about his father made Xavier moody. It also made him determined to prove he could run a bigger con than his old man. He’d looked up to his father for years, but now he was on his own, and this was his chance to uphold the family tradition and raise the stakes to a level his father had never even dreamed of.

  Sure, he’d already scored all the money in Portia Hart’s account, but the haul had been much less than he’d need to disappear into a life of ease. In order to fulfill his dream, he’d have to have more. He banged a fist against the steering wheel as he thought of all the money Portia had thrown away.

  The stupid bitch screwed up my plan. What a fucking waste.

  When he’d seen Portia Hart at the resort in St. Barts he’d been impressed. She was single and attractive, and the Cartier watch she wore on her elegant wrist cost more than a new BMW.

  And once he’d found out who she was, and what her net worth was estimated to be, he was convinced she was the whale he’d been training to catch all his life.

  From that moment on he’d played the perfect game. First choosing a lounge chair close enough to show off his tan torso and chiseled six pack, and then proceeding to ignore her for the majority of the day.

  Arranging an accidental meeting at the pool bar had been easy, and she’d bought his carefree wanderer act hook, line, and sinker. By the end of the first evening he was in her room toasting to her health. By the end of the first week, he was in her bed, toasting to their new life together.

  He was ashamed to think how he’d even allowed himself to imagine he really could be in a relationship, at least for a while. Portia Hart had been beautiful, rich beyond belief, and easy to manipulate. What more could he ask for?

  It was only after he’d travelled with her to New York, and overheard her on the phone with her accountant, that he’d gotten suspicious about her financial situation. He’d been devastated when he’d finally gotten the chance to look at her bank account statement and realized the truth about her finances.

  If I had a heart, she would have broken it. Luckily, I take after my father.

  But eventually his father had played one too many games. He hadn’t known when to stop, and he’d gotten caught. Xavier wouldn’t let that happen to him. He wanted to go out on top, and he knew it was time to retire, but he’d need to find one last target to do it in the style he had always imagined for himself.

  A few million bucks would get him through the first year or two, but he had his heart set on billions. There was only one person he knew of that had billions of dollars in the bank. It was the one person who should have stopped Portia from wasting her inheritance. The one person who would never appreciate the good life that kind of money could buy.

  Bringing his attention back to the road, Xavier decided to take care of first things first. He would find a place to dispose of the bodies in the trunk, and then he would head to Hart Cove. It was time to make the next move in his final game.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Veronica stood with the Channel Ten news crew staring at the television mounted on the wall. Nick Sargent’s special report on Portia Hart’s suspected killer was airing for the second time, and she was having a hard time controlling her anger.

  How dare Riley Odell dangle the story in front of me and then hand it to Nick Sargent to break? Did I say or do something wrong?

  Focused on Nick Sargent’s smug face, Veronica didn’t hear the door to the newsroom open.

  “I need to talk to you…now.”

  Veronica turned to see Riley Odell standing behind her. The prosecutor’s normally cool, guarded expression had slipped. Her face was tense; she looked as hurt and angry as Veronica was feeling.

  Hunter stepped between them and held up a placating hand.

  “Why don’t you both go in my office where you can talk privately.” He guided them to the door, then closed it behind them.

  Veronica turned to Riley with a confused frown.

  “You said you’d let me break the Xavier Greyson story, and then you gave it to Nick Sargent. Why?”

  Riley raised her eyebrows, as if shocked by the accusation.

  “You said you’d keep it off the record until I gave you the okay, and now it’s all over the news and we’re not ready.”

  “Are you saying that you didn’t give Nick Sargent the same information you gave me?” Veronica asked.

  When Riley shook her head, Veronica rushed to her purse and pulled out the menu with Xavier Greyson’s name written on the back.

  “I haven’t told a soul, not even Hunter,” Veronica said, staring at the paper in her hand. “I swear…I had it with me at the hotel and then I went home. I never told anyone about it.”

  Riley studied her with narrowed eyes, as if trying to decide if she was telling the truth.

  “Could someone have seen your notes?”

  Veronica remembered shoving the paper in her purse in the bar. The only person around had been Benji, the bartender. Could he have seen the notes, or even overheard their conversation?

  And then there had been the incident in Julian Hart’s hotel room. He’d seen the notes when her purse had spilled open. He’d seen what she’d written, but he’d been devastated. Would he really go to Channel Ten and share the information about his sister’s killer with Nick? It seemed highly unlikely.

  “I guess the bartender could have seen it when he was delivering the drinks and clearing the table,” Veronica admitted. “And then…well, Julian Hart saw them when I went up to his room.”

  “You went up to his room? When?”

  Swallowing the lump that had worked its way into her throat, Veronica tried to find the right words. Words that wouldn’t make her sound quite so bad.

  “I’d asked Julian for an interview,” Veronica explained, keeping her voice calm. “He suggested we do it in his hotel room.”

  “Okay, so what exactly did you do with him…in his room?”

  Veronica stared out through the glass walls of the office, watching as Hunter and Finn gazed up at the television, both men apparently transfixed by what should have been her story.

  “Nothing happened, Riley,” Veronica said, knowing she’d probably turned an embarrassing shade of red. “I was only there for a few minutes, but my purse fell open and Julian saw my notes. He was actually pretty upset. I can’t imagine he would-”

  “How could you have been so careless,” Riley fumed, shaking her head in frustration. “Now Xavier Greyson has fair warning. He might go to ground. He might panic and hurt someone else. Whatever happens, we no longer have the element of surprise.”

  She put her hand on the doorknob, then stopped, looked back at Veronica’s crestfallen face, and sighed.

  “I’m sorry to be so harsh…I’m sure it wasn’t intentional. But I’ve gotta let Nessa know what happened. We’ll need to decide what to do to try to bring in Xavier Greyson before he can hurt anyone else.”

  Veronica stared after Riley, hating the feeling of helpless that washed over her. Somehow she’d allowed the story to leak, and now Riley and Nessa would have to fix her mistake.

  “You okay?”

  Hunter stood outside the door, studying her stricken face.

  Veronica shook her head; her throat was too tight to speak as Finn walked up and joined them. He turned to see the front door close behind Riley, then pointed to Nick Sargent on the television screen.

  “Did her blow-up have something to do with Nick’s big story?” he asked. “Cause I’m not sure how that could be your fault.”

  Dropping her eyes, Veronica felt a flush of shame heat her cheeks.

  I shouldn’t have sent Finn away yesterday. If I’d acted professionally, none of this would have happened.

  Swallowing hard, she decided it would be easier to just tell them the whole story now, rather than wait for them to figure it out on their own. She waved Hunter and Finn into the office, then sank into a chair across from his desk.

  “Riley Odell met me last night at the Riverview H
otel and gave me information about a man she suspects killed Portia Hart and Molly Blair. She asked me to keep the information to myself until she was ready to release a public appeal.”

  “I’m assuming the man is Xavier Greyson; the same man that Nick Sargent is reporting on this morning?” Hunter’s forehead creased into a frown. “And somehow the information Riley gave you got leaked to Nick?”

  Nodding miserably, Veronica knew she had to tell him the rest.

  “After Riley left the hotel, I only saw two people. So I’m guessing one of them had to have shared the information.”

  “Okay, so who are they?” Finn’s voice was eager, as if he was ready to hunt down whoever Veronica named.

  Veronica glanced at Hunter, but he still wore the same frown.

  “Well, we met in the hotel bar, and there was a bartender there that keep hovering around. He handed me some paper to use and was clearing off the table as Riley was leaving.”

  “So, you think he might have seen the notes?”

  Shrugging, Veronica tried to remember anything unusual about Benji’s behavior, but nothing specific came to mind.

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I left quickly because…well, I saw Julian Hart in the lobby. I followed him to the elevator and asked for an interview and he suggested I go up to his room.”

  Both men stiffened, and Hunter’s frown deepened.

  “I hope you didn’t go into his room alone.” Finn sounded incredulous. “That could compromise the whole story…not to mention put you in a potentially dangerous situation.”

  “I wasn’t there for long,” Veronica protested, ignoring Finn’s disapproving scowl. “And nothing happened out of the ordinary other than…well, other than I dropped my bag and my notes fell out.”

  Running a hand through his unruly hair, Hunter walked to the window and looked outside. Veronica felt the impulse to apologize, but her last bit of pride stopped her.

  “I was trying to chase down a story. Get a big interview,” she insisted. “I didn’t do anything wrong. At least, I didn’t mean to. But now Nick has stolen my scoop, and Riley thinks we’ve given Xavier Greyson a head start. She’s pretty worried…”

  Hunter didn’t seem to be listening. He continued to stare out the window with a grim expression. Finally, he turned to face them.

  “This is the last thing we need.” Hunter’s jaw was clenched, and his voice tight. “This station is already having trouble keeping advertisers. If there’s questions of our integrity…or if we aren’t able to break the latest news…that will only make it harder.”

  Unease ignited in Veronica’s stomach.

  “You see…the station is up for sale,” Hunter admitted, not meeting Veronica’s eyes. “I’ve tried to get the board to hold off, but the chairman called me this morning. He’s got a buyer lined up, and I wasn’t able to change his mind. All this will only confirm to him he’s made the right decision.”

  Jumping up from the chair, Veronica crossed to stand in front of Hunter, unable to believe what she was hearing.

  “When did this happen? When I asked you on Saturday about the station, you said that it was going to be okay.”

  The regret in his eyes confirmed her fear. He’d lied to her. He’d told her what she wanted to hear because he couldn’t trust her with the truth. And she couldn’t say she blamed him. Look what had happened when Riley had trusted her.

  “I’m sorry, Veronica. I was hoping to talk the board out of selling. I’d hoped to find some new advertisers but…well, it didn’t work out.”

  “That’s the theme of the day,” Veronica said numbly.

  “Nothing seems to be working out.”

  Putting a hand on her arm, Hunter stepped close enough for her to feel the heat of his body and smell the faint scent of his cologne.

  “A new owner doesn’t mean things have to change, at least not for you. They may want to bring in new management, but they’ll need good reporters.”

  His words cut through her. Based on what had happened in the last twelve hours, she obviously wasn’t a good reporter, and a new station manager would want only the best.

  An ache started up in her chest at the thought of working at Channel Ten without Hunter. Desperate to hide the tears that had pooled in her eyes, Veronica turned and rushed toward the door.

  “Wait, Veronica…please, stay. We’ll work this out.”

  But Veronica knew it was no use. She could no longer trust herself to make the right decisions, and she couldn’t trust Hunter to tell her the truth. She grabbed her bag and headed out to her Jeep, her mind reeling at the thought of never coming back.

  It’s all over. Just like that, everything I’ve worked for is over.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Veronica steered the red Jeep toward downtown. She didn’t want to go home; she couldn’t face her mother. And she needed to find out who had leaked the Xavier Greyson story. If her reporting career was at an end, she deserve to know how, and why.

  The Riverview Hotel’s lobby was quiet. The police were gone, and most of the reporters covering the Portia Hart story were camped outside City Hall, hoping for an official statement about the murders.

  Approaching the reception desk, Veronica saw the hotel manager chatting with the desk clerk.

  “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Robinson,” she said, glancing at his nametag. “I’m hoping to speak to Julian Hart. Can you call up to his room for me?”

  Dennis Robinson offered a perfunctory smile and shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, dear, but Mr. Hart checked out this morning.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward. “Poor boy was torn up when he heard the news. They’re saying his sister was a victim of a serial killer. He was probably in shock, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

  Disappointment surged through Veronica at the thought that she wouldn’t have the chance to talk to Julian. She felt a twinge of guilt as she recalled how lonely he’d looked when she’d left him the night before.

  Dennis looked over her shoulder and stiffened. He excused himself and stalked toward the bar. Veronica turned to see him approach Benji, who was holding a big duffle bag and wearing a smug smile.

  The bartender had swapped his uniform for a pair of faded jeans and a form-fitting white t-shirt that clung to his muscled torso. She watched as Benji accepted an envelope from the manager’s hand.

  As Dennis walked away, Benji waved at Veronica and headed toward the exit. She scurried after him, her suspicion growing.

  “You’re quitting?” she asked, nodding at the duffle bag.

  “Yeah, I came into an unexpected windfall last night,” he said, offering her a wide grin. “Enough for me to head down south. This was never meant to be a permanent gig anyway.”

  The image of Benji hovering behind her the night before flashed in her mind. She felt her pulse quicken in anger.

  “It was you, wasn’t it? You read my notes, and somehow you passed the information to Nick Sargent.”

  Pulling out his phone, Benji tapped on the screen. An amused smirk appeared on his face as he held the phone toward Veronica.

  “You really are clueless, aren’t you?”

  She gaped at the picture of the menu laying on the tabletop. Her handwritten notes were perfectly clear and legible.

  “Why would you do that?” Veronica shook her head in disgust. “I mean, that information is sensitive, and it’s devastating to the victim’s family.”

  “You mean like Portia Hart’s wimpy brother? The guy that hung around here looking like he wanted to kill himself all the time?” Benji snorted. “Believe me, he’s got bigger problems than me making a little green off a story. In fact, I’d put money on him turning up dead just like his sister. That kind of shit runs in the family.”

  Grabbing Benji’s phone from his hand, Veronica spun and hurried toward the exit. She dropped the phone into the fountain outside just as Benji came charging after her. As he splashed into the water after the phone, Veronica headed back to her Jeep.

>   She didn’t let the tears fall until she was sitting safely in the driver’s seat with the doors locked. She’d ruined everything. The investigation into Portia Hart’s death. Her chance of being a respected reporter. Even her relationship with her mother.

  Wiping away tears with the back of her hand, she caught sight of her red, swollen eyes in the mirror. The image shocked her. Why was she allowing herself to wallow in self-pity? If anyone was hurting now it was Julian Hart. He was the one who was grieving and totally alone in the world. Benji’s words replayed in her head.

  “The guy that hung around here looking like he wanted to kill himself all the time? I’d put money on him turning up dead just like his sister.”

  Would Julian try to hurt himself? She thought of the beautiful sketch he’d drawn. A picture of himself and his sister in happier days. An image of a time long past that must haunt him.

  Pulling out her phone, Veronica scrolled through her messages and found the text Julian had sent her the day before. She would send him a message. Just to check in and make sure he was okay.

  You checked out of the hotel. Are you okay?

  She waited, not sure if she expected a response or not. His reply popped up almost immediately.

  I know what happened now. There was no reason to stay.

  She resisted the impulse to reply that he could stay for her, that she would be there for him. He deserved the truth, and the truth was, she was head over heels for Hunter. After everything that had happened today, she knew that now, even though now was too late.

  But it was obvious that Julian was in desperate need of a friend. Maybe she could still make things right.

  If you need a friend, let me know.

  She waited for a reply. After a long pause, a response popped up.

  I need to make arrangement to bury my sister. Nothing else matters now.

  The despondent tone of his text worried her. She tried to think of something comforting, but her mind went blank. Finally she typed out a reply and pressed send.

  Things will get better. Just hang in there.