“Fancy.” Her sarcastic tone wounded his pride a little.
The Bugatti was more than “fancy,” it was the greatest piece of car engineering since the creation of the automobile. A brand-new million-dollar machine. The interior still had that new car smell, a heady blend of oil-rubbed leather and gunmetal. It was his dream car.
He kept his hurt feeling to himself though and thought of Molly and what she was going through. She was remarkably calm except for the slight tremble that gave her anxiety away. If anything like this ever happened to Obie, Anders would be bouncing off the walls with worry. Resisting the urge to reach over and hold her hand, he pulled the car away from the curb and started up Green Street, heading north.
“Do you believe your daughter actually witnessed a murder?”
“I don't know. It’s possible, but I think it’s also possible she’s lying to me so I go easier on her.”
“But what if she isn’t lying? Don’t you reckon you should call the police?”
“No,” Molly said quickly. “No police.”
“But—”
“Please don't make me regret getting in this car.”
“Okay. Relax. No police.”
As they drove in silence, a light vanilla fragrance drifted toward him from the passenger seat, triggering a barrage of provocative images from the night before. Damn, but he’d sworn to himself he wasn’t gonna go there. Last night was a mistake. He was only helping Molly now because her daughter was in trouble and he liked the kid. He had to remember that. In other circumstances, he likely never would’ve spoken to Molly again.
Anders drove past the quirky and colorful architecture unique to Key West, watching the late-Victorian era homes with their gingerbread accents and the simple cigar maker’s cottages give way to modern shopping centers, gas stations, chain hotels, and fast food restaurants on the eastern side of the island.
“Thank you,” Molly said, drawing his gaze. She was staring out the window. “First the tumble down the stairs, then the snake, and now this. No wonder my nerves are shot. If anything happened to Cheyenne, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Back up a minute. What snake?”
Molly told him about the reptile in her backseat, and how she thought she’d been bit only to discover the snake wasn’t venomous. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Molly MacBain was having a string of bad luck lately. Something about that didn’t smell right, but he kept his thoughts to himself because she didn’t need anything else to worry about. “Why wouldn’t April call you if something happened to Cheyenne?”
“Maybe she doesn’t know?” Molly’s head came up suddenly and her lips pressed together in a grim line. “Or she’s in on it.”
“Have you tried calling her?”
“No. Everything happened so fast and I’m not thinking straight.”
“Call her. See what she says.”
April didn’t answer the phone, so Molly left a message asking the girl to call back as soon as she got the message. Still gripping the phone, Molly rested her hand in her lap. “Chey wanted to go to the Bahamas to look for some mythical buried treasure. When she told me she was in Jamaica, my first thought was that she tried to go to the Bahamas on her own and messed up somehow.”
“Would she do that? Could she be making up the murder just to cover her butt?”
“If you would’ve asked me that question a year ago, I would’ve said no and felt confident about my answer, but now I’m not so sure. My pride wants to believe my daughter would never lie to me, but she hasn’t been acting like herself lately. She’s been secretive and…and making choices I don’t agree with behind my back.”
Molly’s phone buzzed in her hand. “It’s a text from Sue. ‘No flights to Montego Bay until 7 a.m. tomorrow. Plane change in Miami. Cheapest flight is $650 per person.’ What? Cheyenne!”
“What’s wrong?”
Molly shook her head and looked away, staring pensively out the window. “It’s nothing. It’s just, Cheyenne knows I don’t have $1,300 lying around.”
“I can loan you the money.”
“No!” Molly said quickly, her pretty violet eyes going as round as plums. “Thank you, but I can’t borrow money from you. I’ll ask Sophie.”
“Sophie and Jimmy are in Greece. Why bother them on their honeymoon when I can help you?”
“Turn here.” Molly pointed to the driveway as it came up quickly.
The long, winding private drive was shrouded in tropical foliage. Anders took it slow. There were no news vans hovering on the outskirts of the crime scene, no police presence in the driveway. If a murder had happened here, no one knew about it yet.
Molly turned in her seat to study him. “Why are you helping me? I hope you aren’t feeling obligated in some way because we slept together.”
The point-blank reminder of the previous night made Anders choke on air. “That had nothing to do with it. I’m helping you because you’re a friend of my brother’s and your daughter is friends with my son.”
“Be careful, a girl might misinterpret that as a proposal.”
He chuckled, liking the way she busted his chops. Rolling to a stop in front of the Linus’ sprawling Spanish-style mansion, Anders put the car in park. A smile still tugged at the corner of his mouth as he admired Molly’s profile. The high cheekbones. The pert nose. Big violet eyes. Her full, giving mouth and pointed chin. She had a quiet beauty, the kind that crept up on you with time and proximity. The kind you didn’t see coming until it dazzled you.
Molly scoffed as she reached for the door handle. “At least I know you’re not helping me just because the sex was great.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was a disaster and you know it.”
“It wasn’t.”
She shot him a look that said cut the crap and climbed out of the car.
Anders pushed his door open too and then spoke to her across the Bugatti’s sleek silver roof. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t great. But I enjoyed being with you, Molly.”
She stared at him, her violet gaze a little wary, as if she was trying to decide if he was being sincere. He was. Admitting it surprised him, too.
Forcing himself to look away from her, he took in the white stucco structure with its white marble columned portico, terracotta roof tiles, and ornate ironwork. “Nice.”
Molly squinted up at the mansion and frowned. “Pretentious. Let’s go.”
As they stood in front of the oversized arched French doors waiting for someone to answer the bell, Anders thought of something that might create a whole new set of problems. “Does Cheyenne have a passport?”
Molly looked at him blankly. “No. I don’t have one either. Do I need one?”
“If you want to fly to Jamaica, you do.”
Her smooth brow furrowed with concern. “I—”
The door opened and a middle-aged Hispanic woman dressed in an elaborate maid’s uniform greeted them with a politeness that didn’t match the disinterested expression on her face. “May I help you?”
“I’m Cheyenne’s mother. Is April at home? I need to speak with her.”
“Miss April is not available at the moment. I suggest calling before you come next time.”
As she started to shut the door, Molly said, “Wait! It’s important that I—”
The door closed firmly in her face.
She looked up at Anders a bit stunned. His chest swelled with indignation on her behalf and he nudged her aside. After pounding on the door, he hit the doorbell several times to get their attention.
The maid opened the door again. This time, she made no effort to hide her feelings. “Keep that up and I’ll call the police.”
“Good. You do that,” Molly said, stepping in front of Anders. She was several inches shorter than the maid, but that didn’t deter her from confronting the woman. “Maybe the police can bring April to the door because I’ve been trying to get in touch with her. It isn’t like her not to call me back. In fact, if you don’t pr
oduce April within the next five minutes, I’ll call the police myself.”
The maid huffed with exasperation. “Wait here.” She shut the door in Molly’s face again.
Molly pivoted, craning her neck to look up at Anders. When she’d jumped in front of him, he never stepped back, and he wasn’t compelled to do so now. He liked standing close to her.
“Maybe we’ll get somewhere now,” she grumbled.
“Or she’s calling the cops. We can’t force April to come to the door, you know.”
“Maybe one of us should look around before they kick us off the property. Cheyenne mentioned she and April were going for a late-night swim.”
He nodded. “I’ll do it. You wait here.”
“Thank you. And Anders?”
He started to step away but stopped when she said his name. He really didn’t want to acknowledge the way her sultry voice made his belly hum. “Yeah?”
Their gazes met and something akin to static electricity crackled between them. Her lips parted slightly with a quick indrawn breath. “Be careful.”
Itching to touch her, he kept his hands at his sides and nodded instead. “I will.”
He took the stairs two at a time and headed around back. A pair of security cameras affixed to the corner of the house caught his eye. There were others on the perimeter of the property attached to strategically placed poles and he’d bet there were a dozen more just like them. If someone was killed on Linus’ estate, wouldn’t those cameras have spotted it? Taking out his phone, he flicked through his contacts until he found the number he was looking for and put the phone to his ear.
Mitch Thompson answered on the second ring. “Hey, Anders. What’s up?”
A retired Navy SEAL and Jimmy’s former CO, Thompson funded his treasure-hunting ventures by taking odd jobs and occasionally hiring himself out as a mercenary. He knew how to get things and didn’t have a problem skirting the law. Anders had never had a reason to seek out anyone with that particular set of skills, but Thompson had offered his number with the insistence Anders reach out to him if he ever needed anything. He’d had no idea he’d be taking him up on the offer so soon. Anders wouldn’t normally trust a person he barely knew with something this sensitive, but Thompson was Jimmy’s father-in-law now, which meant he and Anders were family.
“Any chance you’d be able to get me a couple of US passports?”
“For yourself?”
“No, I have mine. For Molly and Cheyenne MacBain.”
“Sure. Something wrong?”
The fenced pool sat back about a hundred feet from the house and was surrounded by dense tropical foliage. As Anders went toward it, he noted more cameras pointed in various directions. Overkill for a mansion this size, in his opinion. He’d seen less security at the White House when he sang at the president’s birthday bash last summer. No doubt he was being watched by Philip Linus’ people right now. How long would it be before they came after him? He walked a little faster. “I can’t go into it just now, but I need the passports as soon as possible.”
“Sure thing. It’ll cost a little more, but I can put a rush on it and have them to you in a few hours.”
“Do it. The price doesn't matter.”
“Text me a couple of photos. I’ll meet you at Dixie’s when the documents are ready.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Mitch.” Anders hit end on the phone before he lifted the gate latch. The pool area and open Tiki bar were empty, and there was no indication anyone had been there recently. He headed for the palm-thatched building.
Opening the door, he stuck his head inside. “Anyone here?”
When silence greeted him, he walked deeper into the pool house. He moved a curtain aside and peeked behind it. A discarded dress lay in a pile on the floor. He bent down with the intention of picking it up but stopped when something cold and metallic pressed against his temple. He went very still as a prickle of apprehension skipped down his back. Then he slowly lifted his hands in supplication.
“I don’t want any trouble.” His deceptively calm voice belied his pounding heart.
“You’re trespassing,” the man on the other end of the gun said in a low, gravelly rasp that raised the hairs on Anders’ arms.
“I was looking for April.”
“Why?” The barrel of the gun pressed against Anders’ head.
He swallowed hard and tried to keep his breathing steady. “Molly MacBain needs to talk to her. The maid isn’t cooperating. I thought I’d have a look around.”
“She isn’t here.”
“Where is she?” Anders started to turn around, but the gun barrel pressed back, reminding him he was one wrong move away from death. Closing his eyes, he struggled to resist the ice-cold shards of fear that scraped his spine.
When the thug didn’t reply, Anders expelled a deep breath. “Look. Molly is worried about April. She isn’t returning her calls. Can you tell me why that is?”
“Linus took the girl to Paris last night. Said it was an early birthday present.”
“She went by herself?”
“Just her and Linus.”
“Molly’s daughter was here last night. Cheyenne MacBain. April just ditched her?”
“A servant was told to take her home.”
“You work for Philip Linus then?”
The gun disappeared as the thug stepped back. Anders turned around slowly so as not to startle the guy into doing something stupid. Dressed all in black from the top of his closely cropped head to the boots on his feet, the thug stared at Anders with obsidian eyes. Eyes Anders knew as well as his own. He gaped in disbelief. “Jonas?”
“Hello, brother.”
Chapter Nineteen
A tidal wave of conflicting emotions smashed against Anders like it always did when he saw his baby brother. Affection. Anger. Tenderness for the little boy who’d suffered at the hands of their bastard father. Frustration that he’d turned out just like him. Disgust. Hatred. Love.
Anders unconsciously took a step forward. “What are you—”
The gun was in Jonas’ hand again and pointed at Anders’ heart faster than he could whistle. Anders clenched his jaw as he stepped back with his hands raised in front of him. “I see some things never change.”
Jonas didn’t respond.
“How come you’re not still in jail?”
Nothing. Not even a flicker of emotion on his stone-cold face.
His little brother was bad news, always had been, but he’d never pointed a gun at him before and that just pissed him off. “Put that thing down before I take it from you and shove it up your—”
“Careful, brother,” Jonas said softly. “I’m the one with the gun.”
Anders stopped talking, but his annoyance spiked another octave higher. He gritted his teeth. “What are you doing here, Jonas?”
“Maybe I’ve gone respectable.”
Anders snorted derisively. “So? What? You’re working ground security for Philip Linus now?”
Jonas shrugged.
“Who took Cheyenne home last night and what time did they leave?”
“No idea. Why?”
Anders didn’t answer. If Cheyenne was telling the truth and she had witnessed a murder on the estate then he had to assume someone was trying to conceal it. Linus himself, or more likely someone working for him. Anders’ gaze narrowed on Jonas. Was his brother involved in this and trying to cover his tracks to avoid going back to prison? It was possible. The last Anders had heard, Jonas was doing time in the Alabama State Penn for felony assault charges.
“Anders?” Molly’s voice drifted toward them from the pool area.
Jonas’ black gaze shifted, but otherwise, he stood eerily still.
Anders took an impulsive step forward. “Don’t hurt her.”
His brother surprised him by lowering the gun. “You should leave the premises.”
Moving carefully at first, Anders walked past him and stuck his head out the cracked door. “I’m here. I’ll be right out
.” He glanced back at Jonas, but he was gone.
Anders was fairly certain the building didn’t have a rear exit, but somehow, Jonas had managed to evaporate into thin air.
“Fucking ninja bastard,” he muttered under his breath. Opening the door to exit, he nearly bulldozed Molly. When he caught her arms to steady her, the unexpected contact sizzled through his fingers like an electric shock. He let go of her abruptly, stepped around her, and headed for the gate. “Let’s get out of here. I found some things out.”
“Me too.” She jogged to catch up with him.
“You first.” He slowed his stride so she could keep pace with him easier.
“April’s stepmother came to the door. Courtney said April’s father took her on a surprise birthday trip to Paris last night. She was going have a servant drive Cheyenne home, but the staff couldn’t find her. Courtney assumed Chey had called a cab and left on her own.”
“I found out pretty much the same.”
“From who?” Molly looked back at the pool house with curiosity.
Anders grabbed her elbow to keep her moving forward. “I bumped into a security guard. He didn’t know anything else. Did you tell the stepmother Cheyenne is missing?” He lifted the latch on the gate and held it open for Molly.
“I wanted to. I wanted to give the woman a piece of my mind. I mean, what fourteen-year-old girl calls a cab to get a ride home from a friend’s house at ten o’clock at night? But Courtney's young. She can’t be more than twenty-two or twenty-three and so pregnant she’s about to pop. She said that’s the only reason she didn’t go with them to Paris.” Molly bit her bottom lip as her eyes narrowed in thought. “I think she was telling the truth about Cheyenne. She seemed genuinely clueless about it all. I told her I have a family emergency back in Oklahoma and have to go out of town. I wanted to talk to April about managing the shop for me while I was away.”
“Do you reckon Cheyenne and April planned to go the Bahamas together, but April's father threw a wrench in their plans with the surprise trip?”
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