Lethal Affair

by Noelle Hart

  The two older women stepped to the side to converse.

  “You're an accountant?” Al queried Stanley, having caught the last few snippets of their conversation. “I'm looking for someone who doesn't have sticky fingers. We just fired ours and we've filed a lawsuit against him for embezzlement.”

  Stanley was all ears. “Oh? Which firm is it?”

  Al's laugh was rueful. “No firm, just a guy starting out. Got off on the wrong foot, didn't he? Tried to pull the wool over our eyes but I caught him red-handed.”

  Stanley handed him a card. “I see your glass is empty. Why don't we discuss it over a beer?” The two men settled at one end of the bar while Missy steered Olivia toward the cornucopia ice sculpture at the buffet table.

  True to her prediction, Margie Farmer teetered on her high heels as she made her way over with a sizable party of workers from Valley Farms. Despite their attempt at glamor they made a motley crew, tugging at ties or hemlines.

  Introductions were made all around. Margie, resplendent in a pink and white lace cocktail dress with matching pearl pink heels, clucked like the mother hen she was.

  “Ohmigosh,” gushed Kylie, “you're wearing makeup. Your dress, those shoes, all perfect.”

  Margie blushed. “Stop it. And enjoy it. This only happens once in a blue moon.”

  “Don't forget I'm getting married in December so I hope you've got another fancy concoction in your closet for that event too.”

  “Nothing as snazzy as yours. You're stealing the show and it's not just that dress. You're in love. I can tell.” Her eyes crinkled with laughter. “You lucky bitch!”

  Will had been mingling with the men nearby but returned in time to hear Margie's comment. He snaked an arm around Kylie's waist.

  “Who's a lucky bitch?” he inquired, as if he didn't know.

  “Apparently I am. Will, this is my boss Margie Farmer. Doesn't she look great?”

  He knew how to pour it on. “Ms. Farmer, you look absolutely stunning. Love the heels.”

  She teetered a little and her eyes twinkled. “Everyone calls me Margie. I searched high and low for the right ones so I appreciate the compliment.”

  “Well you did good. Kylie tells me you run Valley Farms like a charm. We buy a lot of our produce from you. Love your line of organic miniatures. Lyle, he's our chef, says you guys have the sweetest strawberries grown anywhere.”

  Margie wrinkled her brow. “Didn't you come out to the Red Barn for strawberries at some point?”

  “Caught me. It's Jimmy who picks up our orders, but I was on a mission that day.” He nodded in Jimmy's direction. “That's him over there trying to pick up one of my new waitresses.”

  They all looked and Jimmy raised his glass, then got back to hitting on the pretty new recruit.

  As Margie drifted off toward the buffet table accompanied by her troop, Kylie sipped her wine and perused the crowd. She spotted Rosemary Meesler looking healthy and fit. They silently toasted across the room.

  “Where's Crane?” Kylie asked Will.

  “You know that two way mirror in my office? He's up there now, watching us like a hawk.”

  She scanned the crowd, taking in each face, looking for one with a brutal scar.

  “I hate this,” she mumbled.

  “What? The wine...?”

  “The wine is divine,” she rhymed. “I just hate the fact that here we are celebrating your dream come true and that... that maniac is still front and center in our thoughts.”

  “So long as he's not front and center right here.”

  The band started up a funky tune and several people launched themselves onto the dance floor. Things were picking up. The crowd was lively now, and the happy cries of children from the rear blended with the wild cacophony from the dancers as they gyrated to the jazzy number.

  Jolene had Lyle kicking up his feet. Giggling and giddy, she spun around him, whipping her slender body in dizzying circles. He matched her step for step, amazing both Kylie and Will as they joined the throng.

  *

  She was wearing that dress.

  What the fuck!

  That asshole Delaney was spinning her around the dance floor like he owned her. Touching her, leaning in for a kiss, and damn it if she didn't look like she was enjoying every minute of it.

  They had no right!

  Drew's body shook with outrage. He lowered his binoculars and slid down to the forest floor, gritting his teeth in an effort to regain control of his broiling emotions.

  He'd come to check things out and if the opportunity presented itself, to overpower and take what was his.

  His parents were here. What was up with that? Were they all one big cozy family now? Plotting against him. Leaving him out in the cold while they danced their lives away!

  Fucking Crane had his gooks everywhere. He'd already made three of them: the one working as bar assistant, a waitress whose hair didn't quite hide her earpiece, and one of those babysitters looked like he was playing kindergarten cop. There were more, he knew, but he hadn't spotted them yet. Where the hell was Crane?

  He gathered his wits and stood back up. The copse of trees ensconced him in deep shadow, effectively hiding him while giving him a clear telescopic view into the festivities. He knew what he had to do. All he needed was a little luck and a lot of balls.

  He giggled to himself, rising to the challenge.

  *

  After exchanging dance partners with several others and coming full circle back to Will, Kylie signaled a time out.

  “My ankle! Need a breather here.”

  Will grabbed a napkin off the bar and mopped his forehead. “We're not half bad. Come to think of it, don't we need to perform a special dance at our wedding? Maybe we should practice.”

  “We need to chose a song. Our song.”

  “How does one chose?”

  “It's supposed to be a song that means something to both of us.”

  “Hmm. How about,” singing, “she'll be coming around the mountain when she comes...”

  Kylie slapped his arm playfully. “Really appropriate, Delaney. Oh I have it; how about,” singing while doing a body ripple to match the lyrics, “I'm too sexy for my hat, whad'ya think about that?”

  Will gathered her in and whispered in her ear, “I think we're in for one helluva night when we get back to my place, that's what I think about that.”

  “It will probably be morning by then.”

  “Then we'll stay in bed all day and only come up for air when we need sustenance.”

  “Ooh.” Singing, “I'm too sexy for this dress...”

  A loud staccato of popping sounds stopped her in mid song. She twirled around in Will's embrace to find the source even as she felt his arms tighten around her.

  They were balloons. An imp in the kiddie corner was systematically popping them one by one with a fork, enjoying his quest of making the girls cry. One of them wailed at the top of her lungs and her mother instantly recognized her specific howl and came running. She scooped her up and tried to shush her to no avail. “I want my balloon!” the tot demanded, her little hands tight fists of outrage, her face turning bright red.

  Kylie gently pushed through the small crowd and with a bright smile approached the woman with the little girl. Teary eyes stared back at her full of sorrow.

  “What's your name?”

  Between snivels, “Suzy.” “What color balloon would you like?”“Pink. Mine the only pink. That mean boy broke it. Mommy promised I could take it home.”The child's mother interceded. “Oh sweetie, I'll buy you a whole bag of pink balloons tomorrow, okay?”

  She kicked in her mother's arms. “No! Want my balloon. Now!”

  “Look, here's a red one.”The kid wasn't having it. At a loss, her mother looked helplessly at Kylie.

  Kylie answered her silent plea. “We have more balloons in the back. I'll go and get a whole bunch of pink ones, okay Suzy?”

  Suzy's face brightened instantly. “Okay,” she said solemnly, an
d laid a calm head on her mother's shoulder.

  “Why don't you get Suzy something to drink and I'll be right back,” she told Suzy's mother.

  Will caught up with her as she made her way toward the kitchen. “Better get used to that. Our kids will need strong leadership. I can see already you're up for the task.”

  “Yeah, but are you?” she rallied.

  “All the way, baby, all the way. Where are we going?”

  The unmistakable clatter of breaking dishes came from the buffet area where an inebriated woman was berating her male partner vehemently.

  “Aw crud,” Will mumbled. “Ruffled feathers may need smoothing.”

  Kylie watched as the woman picked up a small plate and took aim. She shoved Will in their general direction. “Go. Use some of your own strong leadership before those two kill each other and we have a riot on our hands.”

  He hesitated. “The damn balloons can wait. Come with me.”

  “I'll be fine. Look at all these people.” The kitchen was a hive of activity.

  “Okay, but wait here, I'll be back in a jiffy and then we'll...”

  Jolene bustled in looking flustered. “Will, you'd better get out there. Lyle's outside overseeing a fender bender in the parking lot.”

  “On my way. You girls stick together.”

  “Like glue,” Jolene promised as Will had run off. “Balloons, right? Is the tank still in the back room?”

  “Yup. Let's go.” They headed to a large storage room just off the kitchen. Opening the heavy metal fire door Kylie flicked on the overhead lights to reveal a long rectangular room with shelving along one side, large bins stacked ceiling high on the other. In the center was a long wooden table for unpacking and sorting goods.

  The helium tank stood in one corner. Recalling another party with balloons, they'd made sure it was well away from small, curious hands. The valve and balloon nozzle were covered with a plastic sleeve and the long hose to which the nozzle had been coupled dangled down the side of the tank. Extra precaution came in the form of a child proof shut-off feature.

  A box of balloons stood on the table and Kylie rifled through it, pulling out all the pink ones.

  Jolene rubbed her arms as a chill passed over her. She went to the tank, removed the plastic sleeve and opened the valve. “I don't know why, but I'm getting the creeps,” she told Kylie.

  Kylie looked up at her. She stood very still, on high alert as she too felt a presence. She scanned the far wall where a small window was covered by a blackout blind and saw that it moved on an errant night breeze. The window had been opened. Her eyes searched the dark shadows at the corners of the room, the small hairs on the back of her neck standing up as she sensed they were not alone.

  Adjusting to the darkness, she saw him.

  Drew stepped out from behind a file cabinet, his eyes gleaming demonically, his smile wicked with gaps where teeth should have been.

  “The jig is up,” he said calmly, then shoved the file cabinet over the window opening, blocking entry. “Are you girls running a special tonight? Two for the price of one?”

  Glancing behind her Kylie saw that Jolene had frozen, her eyes lit with terror. Her heart hammered against her ribs and her legs turned to lead, suddenly immobile.

  Drew took several bold steps toward her. His scars were as glaringly livid as ever beneath his wild untrimmed whiskers, his hair greasy and limp. Clearly he no longer cared about his appearance.

  He circled around them and went to the open door. Closing it, he slid home the lock. They'd installed that, Kylie knew, for the express purpose of having a safe room for the employees if some maniac decided to wreak havoc in the restaurant. Now it worked in reverse, effectively locking them inside with the maniac and locking out the hope of rescue.

  One thought slid through Kylie's brain. Will. He'd be furious that she hadn't waited for him. If she lived through this that is.

  Jolene grasped Kylie's arm in a death grip.

  Kylie's mind went into desperation mode. Slowly, as Drew came forward, the two girls backed into the corner where the helium tank stood ready to fill pink balloons. Kylie felt the valve of the tank dig into the small of her back. They had no where to go.

  *

  Through the two way mirror in Will's office, Detective Crane observed the drama unfold by the buffet table below.

  One of the two officers with him asked, “Should we go down and assist sir?”

  Crane shook his head. “Nah. It's a domestic disturbance and we've got bigger fish to fry.” He grimaced at his lame restaurant humor.

  “Sir,” said the second officer, “our main subject is not visible. Where is Kylie Lambert?”

  Crane searched the crowd below and not spying her, felt his stomach knot with tension.

  “Maybe she's in the washroom,” suggested the other officer. “The Sparta woman is not visible either. They may have gone together.”

  Crane got out his radio and called his undercover attendant in the ladies washroom. “Is Kylie Lambert in there?” he barked. When he got a negative reply he began calling all other units, one at the kiddie corner, one a circulating waitress and two more outside. The sharp edge of panic seeped in when one of his outside team members didn't answer. On his last call to his officer in the kitchen he hit pay dirt. “They went into the storage room to get balloons,” he was informed.

  “How long have they been in there?”

  “It's been five minutes exactly now sir. Shall I go in after them?”

  “Yes. Go now.”

  There was a pause, then Crane's radio crackled. “I can't get the door open, sir. They're locked inside. I've knocked but there's no answer.”

  Crane's panic amplified. On the floor below Will Delaney had separated the quarreling couple and was placating the woman while holding off the man.

  “Weaver, you stay here,” instructed Crane. “Stevens, you come with me.”

  They raced out of the room, scrambled down the stairs and erupted onto the floor below where they shoved their way through the crowd that had gathered for the show at the buffet.

  *

  Inside the storage room, Kylie and Jolene clung to each other as Drew slowly approached wielding one of his signature knives. This one was small but clearly well honed, its blade glistening dully.

  “Who wants to go first?” he taunted. “Oh, I have an idea. You,” he waved the knife at Jolene, “grab that cord off the shelf behind you and tie Kylie's hands behind her back.” When she didn't budge but simply stared, he yelled, “Do it! Now!”

  Jolene jolted, then found her nerve. “No,” she said, then spat at him. “You want her tied, you do it.”

  The knife flashed as he lunged forward, slicing neatly across Jolene's upper arm. Beads of bright red blood erupted.

  “That's just a paper cut lady,” Drew snarled.

  Kylie stepped in front of Jolene, standing just inches from Drew. “She's just a spectator on the sidelines. I'm the one you want.”

  Drew's focus went onto Kylie. He moved in closer, face to face, his mirthful mania clearly defined in the set of his mouth, the narrowing of his eyes. “Aren't you forever the brave one. You think you can rescue everyone, don't you? But guess what? When I'm done here, I'll take down everyone you ever knew. No one will escape me. I'll start with Delaney out there. He's a menace, a fucking coward who steals other guy's women.”

  There was a loud banging on the door. Muffled, indecipherable cries came through the heavy steel. Drew gripped Kylie's wrist and swiveled his head toward the noise.

  In that small nanosecond, Kylie felt Jolene press something into the palm of her other hand. It was the cold metal nozzle of the long hose attached to the helium tank.

  *

  Will, Lyle and Crane were in a huddle at the storage room door.

  The band played on, the party going strong, everyone blissfully unaware of the unfolding drama in the kitchen.

  “Is there any other way into the room?” asked Crane anxiously.

&
nbsp; “There's a window, but it's tight. A kid might be able to squeeze through the opening.”

  Crane barked into his radio but got no response.

  “Fuck!” screamed Lyle. “How do we get this door open?”

  Heart racing, Will sucked in deep breaths. Eyes searching the door, they came to rest on the hinges. “Quick. Go out back and bring me a long screwdriver and a hammer.”

  Lyle tore through the kitchen and out a back door, encountering a body lying in a heap. He stooped long enough to check for a pulse, then sprinted off toward a shed. In record time he was back with the tools.

  “One of your men is unconscious out back,” Lyle spewed in Crane's direction.

  While Will began hammering out the pin holding the upper hinge in place, Crane barked commands into this radio as he ran out and came back with a chisel and a rock. Together they worked on releasing the three large pins.

  Within minutes Crane's radio crackled and he received the news that the casing of the small window in the rear had been pried off with a crowbar, widening it's gap. Big enough now for a determined adult to get through and lay in wait inside.

  “Send someone in through the window,” Will demanded.

  “He's got it blocked from the inside,” said Crane. “We can try to push whatever it is out of the way but it might escalate an already volatile situation.”

  *

  Kylie felt the cold blade skim along her jaw. It felt all too familiar. She hadn't given up then and she wouldn't now.

  Drew was staring into her eyes. “What a waste. You're the only one who might have saved me,” he said. He released her wrist and pushed her lips together into a pout, then brutally kissed her, his tongue like sandpaper, sliding over her clamped teeth, demanding entry.

  Disgust, horror and fear mingled, her mind in overdrive. The helium tank nozzle slipped from her fingers as she struggled to ward him off, expecting a sharp, blood letting stab at any moment. Images flashed across her mind like ticker tape, at first a vague reminder, then sharp and crisply clear. She'd practiced moves. Would there be opportunity to use them? The videos she'd watched taught a simple lesson: create your opportunity, then act on it.