Her gaze darted to Matt’s door and back to her phone. This was even better. If she could get an item of Bree’s from Toby, she could get some serious work done before she met up with Matt. Then she’d really have something to contribute to this investigation.
She hit the Reply button on her phone and texted Toby that she’d meet him at the foot of the stage on the right-hand side.
Matt would go nuts again if she disappeared like this morning, so she grabbed a pad of paper with the hotel’s logo on it and scribbled a note to him. She cracked open the door between their rooms, slipped the note in the doorjamb and pulled it closed, leaving it unlocked.
Placing her hands on the door, she said, “Sorry, Matt, but I have to do this alone.”
She pulled her sweatshirt from the back of a chair and left her room, clicking the door behind her.
By the time she reached her car, her head was throbbing. She didn’t mind the pain. It represented a disconnect from the land of the living to…that other place. And she needed to be in that other place to help Bree, or at least help her parents. Bree was beyond help now.
The line of cars turning off the highway meant the concert had begun. The heat of the day soaked into the night, and the air crackled with electricity. Had it been unseasonably hot three years ago?
Kylie followed the waving arm of the parking attendant. Sloan had gone all-out this year. Usually parking consisted of people abandoning their cars wherever they found a spot.
She pulled onto a thick carpet of pine needles next to a Jeep blaring music and laughter. Had Bree, Mindy and Patrice been as carefree that night? Now two of them were dead, and the third…
Kylie stumbled from her car and clutched her head. Music also resounded from the concert stage through the trees. Rockapalooza had come to life.
“Are you okay?” A teenager from the Jeep touched her shoulder.
She jerked her head up. “I’m okay. Just got a little dizzy.”
“I heard there’s a first-aid station…no questions asked. You know, if you get too loaded.”
His female companions giggled while they hung their arms around each other and tramped off down the trail to the concert bowl.
Swell. Now she looked like another zonked-out concertgoer.
She put her aching head down and followed them. She had no intention of being alone tonight. Another group trouped down the path right behind her.
The path opened onto the concert bowl, teeming with color and movement. The first band had claimed the stage and the lead singer bellowed out some incomprehensible lyrics. Even if Kylie couldn’t understand him, it resonated with the crowd, which cheered and surged en masse toward the stage.
The stage she had to get to.
Being solo and a woman didn’t hurt her cause. She squeezed between knots of revelers, flashing a smile here and a loud excuse me there. At one point, her feet actually left the ground as one bunch made a rush toward the stage.
Her head pounded along with the drumbeat and her fingertips tingled. She’d hit the zone. Now she just needed the means to get in touch with Bree.
Ten rows back from the action, she craned her neck to scan the security lined up along the edge of the stage. In a blue polo, Toby stood shoulder to shoulder with the other employees of Sloan Enterprises, the permanent security guys a bit beefier than the locals.
She ducked and shimmied between two guys jumping up and down, pumping their fists. A girl behind her yelled, “Hey, no creeping to the front,” and plucked at Kylie’s sweatshirt. Another body came between them, and the girl lost her grip.
The crush of the sweaty bodies increased Kylie’s dizziness and sense of disorientation. Is this how you felt, Bree?
She staggered to the edge of the throng and then fell to her knees, the crowd spitting her out as if it were some giant, pulsating beast that had eaten its fill.
Gentle hands encircled her arms and she looked up into the angelic face of Toby Reynolds.
“I’m glad you made it, Kylie. I have something of Bree’s.”
* * *
MATT SHIFTED AND a sheaf of papers crinkled beneath his left arm. He coughed and rolled to his side, peering at the illuminated digits on the alarm clock. Another forty-five minutes and they’d be ready to go. They’d wanted to wait out the first couple of bands, get a bite to eat and avoid the opening-night traffic.
He pushed up to a sitting position and crunched the pillows behind his back. Rubbing one eye, he grabbed a stack of papers that represented one case. Andy had done his job. Matt had enough here to make a good case that the evidence room had all kinds of problems before the bust that ruined his career.
Turning, he grabbed a can of flat, warm soda and knocked the manila envelope that had come separate from the box to the floor. Drawing his brows over his nose, he picked it up.
Someone had typed up a neat address label, unlike Andy’s messy scrawl across the box. Matt slid his thumb beneath the flap of the envelope and made a small tear. Pinching either side of the envelope he tugged it open. He puffed it out and peered inside.
Photos.
He shook the contents into his lap and tossed the envelope aside. Had Andy gotten hold of some incriminating photos? No note accompanied the pictures. He picked up the first one and studied the three smiling girls—Mindy, Patrice…and Bree.
Snatching the discarded envelope from the floor, he turned it over and squinted at the postmark. Someone had mailed it from Boston. The mysterious Patrice?
He plucked another picture out of the pile. This one showed the three young women with Eric, Kenny and Toby. They all looked…friendly. None of the guys had given the impression that they’d actually hung out with Bree.
He flipped through the stack and noticed a disturbing trend. In all of the pictures, Toby was positioned right next to Bree, always touching her, looking at her…gazing at her with longing.
He flicked the corner of one picture. Toby worked at the hotel, had access to the rooms. He’d known about Kylie’s mother, had mentioned her by name. He was studying something scientific in college—chemistry? Wouldn’t a chem student know how to rig an explosion like the one that rocked Rosie’s house, or at least how to research it?
With his heart pumping, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, scattering more papers. Pinching a photo of Toby and Bree between his fingers, he charged toward the adjoining door and threw it open.
“Kylie?”
The neatly made up bed stared back at him blankly. His gaze darted to the bathroom door, slightly ajar. He stepped into the room and listened. No water running.
“Kylie?”
He stalked toward the bathroom and shoved open the door. One light glowed over the mirror in the empty room. He pounded the vanity, glaring at himself in the glass.
Where was she?
He walked back into the bedroom and slowly turned. She’d taken her purse, the sweatshirt that had hung on the back of the chair, her cell phone.
Cell phone.
He dug his own phone from his pocket, which fumbled out of his shaky hands. He stooped to pick it up and noticed a single white sheet of paper on the carpet. He grabbed it and read the note.
Matt, I went to the concert early. Some things I just need to do by myself. Don’t worry. I’ll text you a meeting place. Toby has something of Bree’s.
Her bold signature in black ink blurred before his eyes.
He’d done it. The kid had lured her out with the promise of something she wanted more than anything. Something he’d taken from her in the first place—Bree’s scarf.
He crushed the note in his fist and punched the button for Kylie’s cell phone. It rang until her voice mail picked up.
Matt shouted into the phone. “Kylie, it’s Toby. Get away from Toby.”
Then he punched in the same text message.
He stormed into his own room, pulled on his boots and grabbed his leather jacket, his keys…and his Glock.
The roar from his motorcycle bellowed into the s
till night as he gunned the engine. He careened out of the hotel parking lot and hit the coastal highway at high speed.
Why did she do it? Why did she sneak away from him?
But he already knew the answer. She’d had to get away from his smothering presence. He was cramping her style, suffocating her. If he had given her more space, she wouldn’t have felt compelled to escape…right into the arms of a killer.
Steady traffic still poured into the concert grounds, but he weaved between the cars with his bike. When he saw the turnoff to the venue, he shot ahead and rode on the shoulder of the road to pass the concertgoers.
The parking attendants waved him through and he cut the engine of his bike and walked it in as close to the bowl as he could. When he faced the clearing, now packed with bodies jumping up and down and swaying to the music, his gut twisted.
Where could she be in this teeming humanity?
Toby had shown him his blue polo shirt with a gold insignia for Sloan Enterprises Security. Security. He scanned the crowd and spotted a few blue polos.
He approached a beefy guy wearing one. “Hey, do you know Toby Reynolds? He’s a townie.”
The man hunched his shoulders. “Doesn’t sound familiar, but most of the local kids are stationed up front, bordering the stage.”
Matt tunneled his way through the crowd, pissing off more than a few people and stomping on a fair number of bare toes with his motorcycle boots.
He zeroed in on the blue shirts lining the stage, but couldn’t see Toby or Kenny or even Rob. He grabbed another security guy by the sleeve and yanked him close to yell in his ear.
“Do you know Toby Reynolds?”
The guy shook him off, but nodded. “Yeah, I know him.”
“Have you seen him around? Is he here?”
“He was here but I haven’t seen him in a while.” He turned back to the stage. “This band’s about to wrap it up. Gotta get back to work.”
Matt dragged a hand through his hair, and slumped against the corner of the stage. He pulled the photo of Toby and Bree from his pocket and traced the faces with his fingertip.
Where are you? Where did you take Bree? Where have you taken Kylie?
He combed through the snippets of conversation he’d exchanged with Toby. The guy had seemed bland—no wonder Bree hadn’t been interested. He showed no emotion…except…Matt brought the photo close to his face. Columbella House loomed behind the couple.
He recalled when he’d mentioned tearing down Columbella to Toby. Fire had flashed from his usually vapid blue eyes. Now why would a young guy like that be so protective of an old house like Columbella?
Unless he had something to hide there.
Chapter Fifteen
Kylie stumbled over the threshold of a doorway, her legs numb and her brain foggy. A pair of strong hands gripped her from behind. Toby.
He had taken her here in his car, half dragged, half carried her because her limbs had turned to jelly. After…after…
Adrenaline coursed through her system and she jerked her arms against their restraint and widened her eyes. He’d shot her with something. She’d seen the needle…too late.
“Toby?”
The hands tightened their grip. “Coming around? Good. I didn’t want you completely knocked out.”
He whipped the cover from a chair and shoved her into it. Dust particles swirled in the beam of his flashlight and Kylie sneezed. When she opened her eyes, her gaze tracked around the room. Columbella House.
She concentrated on lifting her hand to wipe her nose, but it lay uselessly in her lap. She moved her tongue, forming words slowly. “What are we doing here?”
“Two things, really.” He stepped back, folding his arms over his blue polo shirt. “I want you to tell my fortune. And I want to introduce you to Bree.”
Goose bumps rushed up her arms, and Kylie clenched her muscles against the chill. “B-Bree’s here?”
“Of course. I thought you were close to figuring that out because you kept coming here, and then I think finding Mindy’s body confused you.”
Three. Dead. Girls.
“Did you harm Mindy?”
“That stupid druggie? No.” Toby placed the flashlight on the table next to Kylie and flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles. “She always thought Harlan Sloan killed Bree. Just because he’s rich and powerful doesn’t mean he can do anything he wants. Mindy killed herself because she felt guilty about Bree. She and Bree had an argument before Bree left the concert.”
Kylie breathed deeply through her nose. Whatever drug Toby had used on her seemed to be wearing off. “To meet you?”
“No.” Toby lashed out with his fist, knocking over a candlestick on the shelf behind him. “She wouldn’t leave the concert to meet me. I knew that. But she’d leave to meet Sloan.”
“You sent that text message from Sloan’s phone?”
“It was perfect. It lured Bree to me and it got Sloan in trouble later.” He tilted his head and the light from the flashlight caught his blond hair. “You always have to lure them out with a promise of something they really want. Like you. But I didn’t lie. I do have something of Bree’s.”
Kylie shivered, but she welcomed the sensation to her numb body. “You killed Bree because you were jealous?”
He narrowed his eyes and looked down his nose at her. “I killed her because she was too stupid to recognize what a slimeball Sloan was.”
Finally able to raise her arms, Kylie folded them across her chest. She whispered. “Where is she?”
“We’ll get to that later.” He rubbed his hands together, and for the first time, Kylie noticed he had a knife sheathed at his belt loop. “First, I want you to tell my fortune.”
She swallowed. Could she use Toby’s fortune, as he called it, to get out of this? She could at least use it to waste time until Matt came to the rescue.
And how was he supposed to find her? Maybe someone at the concert saw her leave with Toby. She had no idea where Toby had left his car or how they’d gotten into Columbella House.
But she trusted Matt. Hadn’t he always come through for her before?
Toby pulled a bottle of water from the backpack slung over one of his shoulders and thrust it at her. “It’s clean. I want you fully aware so you can do my reading.”
She raised a trembling hand and took the unopened bottle from him. She chugged half the contents before she came up for air. “Why are you so interested in your future?”
“I had my reading done before, you know.” A mist floated across his blue eyes. “Rosie did it.”
A knot tightened in Kylie’s gut. Mom had given this weirdo, this killer, a reading?
“What did you learn?”
“She led me to Bree. She told me love would come into my life, someone special, but there would be an obstacle.” The jaw of his baby face hardened.
Kylie licked her lips. “S-so why didn’t you get rid of Harlan Sloan instead of Bree?”
“Sloan wasn’t the obstacle.” He blinked his eyes. “It was Bree herself. She was the obstacle. She didn’t want me for anything more than a friend. I was tired of being a friend. I decided to keep her here with me in Coral Cove forever.”
“Nothing lasts forever, Toby.”
“Death does.”
Her gaze dropped to the belt at Toby’s waist. Could she lunge for it? Could she use it?
“Your mother told me to overcome the obstacle.”
“I think she meant your own jealousy—that was the obstacle she saw.”
“No!” He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked it. Tears flooded her eyes. “That’s not what she meant. Let’s see if you’re as good as your mother. That’s why I was worried about you.”
“You were worried about me?”
“When I heard you’d come to town to investigate Bree’s disappearance, I was afraid you’d see everything as it happened. But you’re not very good, are you?”
“I—I can’t see everything as it happened.”
&nbs
p; His full lips twisted. “That’s because you were too wrapped up in that P.I....that cop. He didn’t concern me. I researched him. He’s a thief and an opportunist. I figured he was just here for the money.”
He’s going to prove you wrong, Toby.
Toby unsheathed his knife and he thrust his other hand, palm up, under her nose. “What does my future hold?”
A prison cell or a loony bin.
She took his wrist and her skin crawled as she touched his soft flesh. She focused on the meaningless lines crisscrossing his palm. Her mother had always pretended to read palms, but really she went off the vibe from the person.
All Kylie could feel now was evil emanating from him. How had she missed it before? Toby was right about one thing—she’d been too wrapped up in Matt to get a clear vision of anything.
She cleared her throat. “I see that you’re a good person, Toby. You’ve made mistakes, but you can correct them. You can make things right if you stop this now and turn yourself in to Chief Evans.”
He snatched his hand away and smacked her across the face. She reeled back against the dusty chair, her cheek burning.
“You’re a fraud. I probably never had to worry about you at all. You never would’ve found Bree, and you never would’ve known I was the one who ended her life.”
Kylie rubbed her face. He’d slapped the side that she’d already scraped escaping the bomb blast—the bomb he had planted. She glanced down at the trace of blood on her fingertips. Hot anger surged through her veins, and she lunged for Toby’s face, clawing him with her nails.
He stumbled back, warding her off with one arm and swinging his knife around with the other. He grazed her hip with the blade, just above the waistband of her jeans and inside her sweatshirt. She staggered under the pain, dropping one knee to the floor.
“Don’t mess with me, Kylie. Bree messed with me and look what happened to her.”
Gasping, Kylie clutched her side where she felt blood seeping through her T-shirt. “What did happen to her, Toby?”
“Glad you asked. Get up.” He pinched her arm with his grip and yanked her to her feet. “We’re going to find out right now.”
Intuition Page 18