Wicked Women Whodunit

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Wicked Women Whodunit Page 25

by Davidson, MaryJanice


  Heather winced as the cameras followed Tanya inside the small two-bedroom house her parents called home. They had fought to better her life, and her success had been an elixir for them. But they hadn’t known about her deep-down feelings that she hid even from herself.

  “Did you know your daughter’s ambition is to own a bed-and-breakfast and have you move in with her?” Tanya said.

  Heather’s mother, silver-streaked hair shaggy and unshorn, stared with world-weary eyes at the interviewer whose stylish suit put her outdated shirtwaist dress to shame. “I wouldn’t know about that, ma’am. I’m happy for Heather, really I am. I hope she wins her dream.”

  “When’s the last time you saw your daughter, Mrs. Payne?”

  “Why, I don’t right know. Do you, Al?” she deferred to her husband. Her wheezing breath descended into a cough. “Sorry, that’s from all those years at the glass factory.”

  “We don’t hear from our baby much,” said her dad, shaking his coal-dust-blackened hair. “Just about once a month, she calls to see if we’re okay. We understand her job keeps her busy.”

  Heather recognized the same look in his eyes that Rex’s father had exhibited. Forgive me, she pleaded silently. I’ll check on you more often. I didn’t mean to be neglectful.

  “How come you don’t visit your folks?” Tanya asked her on live feed. “Are you ashamed of your origins, Heather? Is that why you want to get your parents away from there?”

  Grasping her hands together, she dug her fingernails into her palms. “I’m concerned about their health,” she said in a neutral tone. “The cold winters have taken their toll. They both need the warm, moist air in Florida to survive.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you ignore them. You’ve never even brought a boyfriend home. Is it because you don’t have any suitors, or because you’re too embarrassed to show a man where you’ve lived?”

  She shot to her feet. “This has nothing to do with my ability to run a business. Why are you doing this to us?”

  Tanya’s smile stretched her mouth but didn’t extend to her eyes. “Your viewers want to see how you react to personal pressures. When you own a business, you don’t work in a vacuum. You still have strings to the people at home. If someone who depends on you gets sick, what then? What if someone you love gets hurt or needs your help? Emotional issues affect people’s efficiency every day. Sometimes, they can lead to failure.”

  Tanya paused, moistening her lips before zeroing in on her next target. “Isn’t that right, David Molina? We interviewed your ex-wife to see what she thought about your arrest for hacking into your employer’s personal computer files.”

  And so the heart-wrenching stories continued. Heather’s stomach churned until she thought she’d throw up if they were on the air much longer. Then Tanya brought up the murder.

  “As if these people don’t have enough to hide, one of them may be a killer. The other night ...” She showed the contestants talking in the living room, their discussion interrupted by Michelle’s screams, and what ensued. “Just think, Heather, if you win this bed-and-breakfast, you can advertise that it comes with a ghost.”

  Heather closed her ears to the woman’s laughter. When Logan took over, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” their host said after the last commercial break. “The person with the least number of votes in their favor, who will leave us tonight is ...” Heather froze. “... Kim Allen.”

  Heather’s tense muscles relaxed.

  “Kim, you would have been disqualified today anyway. When you went upstairs last night ostensibly to use the bathroom, you really went to make a forbidden call on your cell phone. We captured you on film. Watch this,” Logan said.

  A segment rolled that showed Kim grabbing something from her purse and dashing into the bathroom. She opened the door before emerging again, and her voice rang out. “I’ll call you later,” Heather heard Kim say in a clear tone.

  “Oh, rats.” Kim stood to accept hugs from the rest of them. According to the rules, she had ten minutes to pack her bags and meet the waiting taxi outside. Meanwhile, Logan and Tanya asked each of the remaining six contestants, “How do you feel about the decision tonight?”

  “I feel horrible,” Heather said to Rex when things quieted down. They trooped into the kitchen together after the others had gone upstairs. “I knew the show would be tough, but I never dreamed they’d shoot us with poisoned arrows.”

  He stopped her halfway to the refrigerator and turned her around to face him. His hands rested on her shoulders. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your parents,” he said, his steadfast gaze making her knees weaken. “Their strength resides in you. It’s given you a steel-hard core to go after your dream and make it into a reality. You will succeed.”

  Moisture tipped her lashes. “I’ve treated them so badly. Truthfully, it pains me to visit them. I can still remember the taunts of the other kids at school. Did you see my mom’s dress compared to Tanya’s outfit? We could only afford stuff from the thrift shop. I’ve been sending them money, but they use it for maintenance on the house.”

  “Well, I’m not the best one to offer advice. I don’t know how I’ll face my dad after this.” His voice choked, and his grip tightened, as though he clung to her for solace.

  “Explain to him that you didn’t intend to leave him completely in the lurch. I think he’ll understand that you didn’t want to hurt him.” She hesitated. “It’s always painful for a parent when their child leaves the nest. Maybe he’s been holding on to you for his own security.”

  “Yeah, I suppose that’s part of it.” He kissed her lightly. “I’m beginning to scare myself.”

  “How so?” She felt so protected, with him towering over her, his broad shoulders stretching his white dress shirt.

  “I almost want you to win.”

  “No, you don’t. Then you’d have to give up your boat.”

  He glanced away. “That would be tough. You’d understand if you went out with me.” His gaze slid back to snag hers. “The bow slicing through the water, the white foam funneling below, the rocking motion ... you feel as though you’re one with the ocean. You should see how the sun divides the water into shards of light.”

  “It sounds incredible.”

  “Nothing could be better, except sex.” He grinned, the transformation of his face making her breath catch. “Sometimes dolphins follow you. They like the bubbles that trail the boat. They speed along for miles, leaping and playing, then suddenly they’ll peel off. It’s amazing.” His handsome features flushed as though the admission weren’t manly.

  She grasped one of his hands, callused from years of labor. Her forefinger traced a line from his thumb to his palm. “This may sound weird to you, but I’m just as entranced by houses. They’re like people to me. They hide old secrets, reflect the personalities of their owners, and stand sturdy through years of change. I suppose you could say the same about the furniture you restore.”

  He tilted his head. “That’s a unique way of looking at it. You know, Heather, at times you seem to understand me better than I do myself. It’s uncanny.”

  Her pulse accelerated. He’d begun twirling his thumb inside her palm, and the effect made a muddle of her thoughts.

  “I almost wish we’d met elsewhere, and we weren’t competing with each other,” she said. When he pulled her close, she didn’t resist.

  “I know. I could really dig someone like you.”

  This time when his mouth descended, his hot breath sifted into her mouth like an offering of his soul. His strong arms folded around her, crushing her against him as he pressed his lips to hers with searing intensity. Heather returned his passion, admiring his loyalty to his father and his closeness to the land ... er, sea. Whatever. He seemed to provide something she lacked, and her intuition sensed it. She molded herself to him, oblivious to anything except the joy of his attention.

  On the edges of her mind, she hear
d the microwave oven humming, as though it had just turned on. Crackling noises focused her awareness. The motor shouldn’t sound like that.

  Her head lifted just as an explosion blasted the kitchen.

  Six

  Heather ducked as a missile flew through the air. A loud crash resounded, followed by silence. She glanced over to where the microwave oven door had blown off, thanks to a shiny metal object someone had put inside the now smoking appliance. From its melted shape, the item’s identity was no longer discernible. No matter. What concerned her more was the likelihood that this incident represented another case of sabotage.

  “Someone waited until we were in the kitchen,” Rex said, narrowing his eyes. “One of us could’ve been killed. Maybe it’s the producers. They could be watching us on camera and activated the thing by remote control.”

  “Or Sarah set the timer. She was the last one in here.”

  “Why? To knock one of us from the competition?”

  “Presumably. Or to scare us off the show. Or maybe she’s working for the producers to stall our progress. You mentioned the possibility of a plant, remember?”

  “This was no incident meant to frighten us or hinder our work. It could’ve caused bodily harm. Don’t forget what happened to Gary.”

  Voices clamored as the others rushed to see what had caused the noise. Sarah’s dismay seemed genuine when she saw the sooty residue on the kitchen counter.

  “Cripes,” she said, “I just cleaned up in here. Who could be so stupid to put metal in the microwave?”

  “Maybe you did it, honey bunny,” said Dave, crossing his arms. “It’s an odd way to call attention to yourself, but the kitchen is your domain.”

  “You should talk, pool boy,” Sarah retorted. “If you spent as much time on the computer as you did showing off your buff bod, our phone would be ringing with reservations.”

  Dave’s bedroom eyes livened. “Oh, I get it. You’re jealous of the time I spent out there with Kim. Well, don’t worry, babe, she’s gone, so now I’m all yours.”

  “Dave worked hard today,” Heather said to smooth over their differences. “We all did well under the circumstances. Tomorrow we’ll have plenty of time to get the place in shape, and Monday we can take care of business details. We should be proud of our accomplishments.”

  “I’ve made more lists of what has to get done,” Michelle offered, her curly black locks spilling down her back.

  “That’s great,” Rex answered. “What about newspaper delivery? Did you order it to start in the morning? I’m curious to see what the entertainment reporter says about our TV show.”

  “Tanya said no news until next weekend.” Michelle grimaced. “She doesn’t want us to be influenced by outside opinions.”

  Heather couldn’t suppress her curiosity, however, so she corralled the lady producer on Sunday afternoon. Tanya had just finished interviews with the guys and had signaled for Sarah, Michelle, and Heather to come over. They’d set up cameras outside for a view of the lake in the background.

  “Our ratings are great,” Tanya responded to Heather’s query. In the bright sunlight, her pancake makeup highlighted every crease in her face. “We have viewers calling in asking about the murder investigation. I knew that would score a hit. So tell me,” she said when the sound tech signaled he’d begun taping, “how do you feel you’re doing? Do you think you could handle running this place alone?”

  Heather launched into her prepared spiel about her advertising plans and the themed home design accessories she’d add if the house were her own. “I’ll make it succeed,” she finished. “But getting things ready, I have everyone else to thank. The others are pulling their weight, too.”

  Voters seemed to like her answers when the contestants gathered that evening at eight for their next live segment. This time, Heather secured a place next to Rex. His solid presence offered reassurance, and when she shifted nervously, he patted her hand. She noticed he wasn’t completely free from anxiety, though. He tapped his black dress shoe on the carpet while the show’s credits rolled. What challenge would Logan have in store for them tonight?

  “I’d like to introduce a surprise guest,” Logan said, giving viewers his Colgate smile. “Let’s welcome business expert, Mr. Steve Marcus.”

  With a dramatic flourish, Tanya flung open the front door. A tall, suited fellow strode inside wearing a tight grin and a comb-over to hide his shiny pate.

  “Steve is author of the books, Starting Your Own Business, and How To Succeed Without Crying,” Logan boomed. “He runs a multi-million-dollar trucking company and other enterprises in the transportation industry. We’ve asked for his critique on our contestants.”

  “Oh, no,” Michelle groaned in the back row.

  Marcus stripped each of them of their illusions concerning their capability.

  “Heather, you’re too nice to your teammates,” he said, fixing his steely gaze on her while she shriveled in her seat. “You try to get along with everyone and end up making excuses for their inadequate behavior. You have to do what’s best for the business. If you’re always concerned about your colleagues liking you, or if you gloss over their deficiencies, you’ll never exhibit true leadership. It takes guts to fire an incompetent employee. Similarly, you can’t operate a machine with a defective part. You have to replace the weak link instead of repeatedly trying to fix it.

  “Take Rex for your model.” Marcus nodded at him, sitting stiffly at Heather’s side. “He knows how to get the job done. He’s able to pinpoint each person’s best potential, and he’ll tell you if you’re not up to speed. His problem, as I see it, may be that he’s too goal-oriented and discounts the value of personal relationships to company morale.”

  Marcus continued in this vein for the rest of them until the moment they had all been waiting for arrived.

  Logan took his usual stance. “So, America, what have you decided tonight? Who’s going to stay, and who will go?” He took a printed sheet from Tanya’s outstretched hand. “Aw, heck, Michelle. Looks like it’s your turn. Our voters say you spend too much time planning and making lists, while others bear the burden of the work. Take my advice: learn to narrow your focus and follow your own tasks through to the end. So sorry.”

  With a muffled sob, Michelle embraced the others. Heather gave her a tearful hug.

  “I’ll miss you,” she said. “In my opinion, you’ve worked as hard as anyone else.”

  While Michelle ran upstairs to pack, Logan solicited their reactions. “Okay, people, what do you think about this decision?”

  “It stinks,” Jon pitched in, forking a hand through his spiked blond hair. “Dave should be the one to go. He wastes time hanging out at the pool.”

  “Hey, I get my assignments done,” Dave retorted. “And I don’t cheat, unlike somebody else here. That person should get the boot.”

  “Oh, do tell us,” Tanya called. “Who is it?”

  “Sorry, my lips are sealed.” Dave smirked. “For now.”

  After the interminable talks ended, the remaining five crashed in the kitchen, sharing beers and life stories. Time stretched past midnight. Jon, Dave, and Sarah eventually went upstairs, leaving Heather and Rex behind. Heather couldn’t face the isolation of her room just yet.

  “I hate the live sessions,” she told Rex, seated across the kitchen table. “Bringing that businessman in tonight to judge us was unfair. You can’t compare running a B&B to a large company.”

  “I agree. It’s tough on all of us. But you know what? Even if I lose, I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet you.”

  Although he’d been clean-shaven earlier, dark stubble now shadowed his chin and gave him a rakish look. Combined with his tousled hair and disarming grin, he presented an irresistible package. Desire flared inside her. She wanted to get closer to him, but awareness of the hidden cameras inhibited her.

  “I suppose we should retire,” she said somewhat reluctantly.

  His eyes twinkled playfully. “Yeah, we should g
o to bed.”

  Heather gathered from his tone that going to sleep wasn’t what he had in mind, and her pulse rate soared. They had only a few days together. Why not make the best of them? Rising, she considered how they could be discreet.

  Passing through the hallway, she glanced at the empty bookshelf standing against the side of the staircase. From her real estate agent’s viewpoint, it seemed to be bizarrely out of place.

  “That looks terrible there,” she said. “We should move it into the family room, at least until we fill the shelves.”

  “Now?” he replied when she started over.

  “Why not?” She shoved the bookcase away from the wall. “Hey, get this. There’s a door back here. Would you believe it?” Its oiled hinges opened easily, making her wonder if the producers intended for them to find this closet under the stairwell. Her fingers fumbled along the inside wall for a light switch. A single bulb flashed on, illuminating the interior where stacks of cartons met her eyes. When she read the labels, her mouth dropped open.

  “Oh, my gosh, these are cases of wine.”

  “No way.” Rex investigated by tearing open a box and peering inside. “Unbelievable. We should tell the others.”

  “Later. Let’s get some glasses and a corkscrew. We should at least see if the stuff is okay. You know, unspoiled.”

  “You’re right.” He left briefly and returned carrying the requested items. Rex made short work of removing one cork and filling a couple of inexpensive goblets from a bar set Sarah had bought.

  The astringent taste of dry red wine slid down her throat. Closing her eyes, Heather took another gulp and savored the fruity flavor. She probably shouldn’t drink any more after downing a couple of beers, but this evening’s session had unnerved her, and stress relief suddenly became an urgent goal. Following several swallows that emptied her glass, she sank to the floor, feeling light-headed.

  Rex sat beside her. He refilled their glasses, then put the bottle down. Glancing at the partially open door, he kicked it shut. “Now we’ve got this cozy little place all to ourselves.”

 

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