Her voice faded as Rex thundered down the stairs, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He must have packed his stuff the night before, Heather thought in dismay. Sparing her a wink and a wave, he exited through the open door before her limbs could react. After showing Rex’s departure, Logan signaled to Tanya to resume her interview.
“Why do you feel Rex cheated at this critical juncture, when everything hinged on how the two of you managed under pressure?” Tanya persisted, her eyes gleaming. “Do you think he would have won the viewers’ vote?”
“Who did get the most votes?” Heather said, confronting the co-producer. Her knees felt weak, and her heart hammered. She still couldn’t conceive that she’d won, so why did it feel as though she’d lost?
“That’s a moot point now,” Tanya said, grinning broadly. “The house is yours.”
Something took hold inside of her, mustering reserves of iron strength. Rex said sometimes you had to show all your guns to get things done. She hadn’t agreed, believing you won more battles with flowers. Now she understood what he meant. You had to be hard-edged on occasion for people to listen.
“It’s not fair,” she retorted, hands on her hips. “Your rules said we weren’t allowed instructional manuals. Rex wasn’t looking at a cookbook. So what if he printed out a few recipes? Now that this place is mine, I can use any resources I need.”
“Nonetheless,” Tanya replied in a syrupy tone, “he violated our guidelines.”
Undaunted, Heather shook her head, her body trembling with the force of her emotions. “There has to be an appeal process. Rex deserves a chance along with me. The winning score should go to the best professional. You’re disallowing the opinions of our viewers by ignoring their vote, and that was the whole point of this show.”
“Aren’t you just trying to appease your lover? We know you two have spent a few nights together. Does this mark the end of your affair?”
Mortified when tears brimmed her eyes, Heather turned and ran up the stairs to her room.
Desolate, she sobbed on her bed until her ducts went dry. Here she’d won her dream house, and she couldn’t enjoy it. Without Rex at her side, earning the prize meant nothing.
Surprised by the intensity of her feelings, she resolved to make things right. Maybe those recipes in the garbage can were a plant. Rex may have received a tip to look in there, and he hadn’t admitted he’d been duped because he wanted her to win. If she could prove they’d been put there by someone else, that would put him back in the running. She didn’t think about what would transpire if she lost the house.
More importantly, she didn’t want to lose Rex. He’d come to mean too much to her.
Gritting her teeth, she changed into jeans, a pullover top, socks, and running shoes. A few minutes in the bathroom freshened her face. Then she grabbed a flashlight and rushed downstairs, slipping outdoors through the family room patio doors.
Sniffing the warm night air laden with moisture, she prowled across the soft grass to the side of the house. There stood the incriminating garbage can, its lid awry. Peering inside with the flashlight, she felt a wave of disappointment. The can was empty. No clues in there. Now what?
An eerie stillness descended as she padded back to the screened patio. Aside from the steady hum of an air-conditioning unit and a chorus of crickets, she distinguished no other sounds. She was alone for the first time since she’d arrived at the house, and her nape prickled.
Gary had been assaulted out here. Detective Jackson, who’d shown up several more times to conduct detailed interviews as well as to search the premises, hadn’t shared his findings with any of the contestants. He almost seemed to adopt a wait-and-see attitude. That didn’t sit comfortably with Heather.
That stupid plant was lopsided again. Her hand automatically reached to straighten the tilting branches. She’d dump it outside tomorrow and find something more suitable.
Her fingers pushed on the stem. When it wouldn’t right itself, she grabbed the entire thing in her hand. It lifted easily with a clump of dirt at the roots, but something impeded its repositioning. Shining her flashlight inside, she gasped. At the bottom of the pot nestled a pair of woman’s gardening gloves.
Realizing what they represented, Heather stuffed the plant back into its container and brushed the soil from her hands. Then she stopped, standing frozen in the gloom. It shouldn’t be so dark on the pool deck. What had happened to the outdoor lights she’d put on?
Her pulse accelerated, and she jerked forward toward the lit family room. Get inside, and lock the doors.
After securing the entrances, she’d call the police. Zipping around to the other doors, Heather made certain they were shut and locked. She remembered to check the private owner’s suite at the opposite end of the ground floor. My suite, she thought with a sense of awe, standing in the center of the master bedroom with its king-size bed.
Her mind wandered to the home accessories she planned to add, picturing the bedspread and matching draperies, before she noticed the lingering perfume scent. Oh, no.
This room being unoccupied, they hadn’t installed a telephone in here yet. She flew toward the front hallway. Arm the security alarm while you’re there. The technician had connected the system earlier that day.
But just as she passed the kitchen entrance, the power cut off, and everything went dark.
That meant no camera feed to the production crew next door, no portable phones working, and no alarm system, because they hadn’t chosen to pay extra for wireless backup.
She heard a scraping sound in the kitchen, and her breath caught. “Who’s there?” At the same time, she realized locking the doors had been futile. Who else had a key? None other than the one person she hoped to avoid.
Still holding the flashlight, Heather flicked it on and leaped backward when Tanya’s grinning face loomed in its beam. The producer edged toward her, a serrated knife glinting in her hand. Her eyes gleamed with a murderous light.
Icy fingers of fear clutched Heather’s heart. “Tanya, what are you doing here?” she choked. “The game is over.”
Tanya inched closer. “No, it isn’t. Too bad the intruder responsible for those accidents will strike again tonight. I’ll suggest it could be a neighbor, who opposes having a commercial property in the area. We’ll get the highest ratings ever for any reality show, and then I can go on to produce movies.”
“Is that why you killed Gary, just for the ratings? You used those gloves and then hid them inside the flower pot.”
“I couldn’t risk throwing them out. The police went through the trash. I would’ve gotten rid of them later when the heat died down. You might have lived, if you hadn’t gone snooping tonight. I’ve been monitoring the video channels, and the cameras caught you going outside. The police will think the intruder followed you into the house.”
Heather thought of her cell phone upstairs in her purse. If she could call for help.... Backed up against the staircase wall, she felt behind her for the empty bookshelf she and Rex had moved the night they found the wine. The door was just behind it.
“What about Dave?” she said hastily, shifting her position so she could slide the bookshelf sideways.
“I’d hoped to break his neck. Did you notice how the first people voted off the show were women? There wasn’t any gender equality, so I had to even the score.”
Heather stumbled, which pushed the bookshelf to the left. “Were you responsible for the pranks, too? The stuffed toilet? The bulb over my shower? Putting metal in the microwave?”
“Oh, that one was rich, wasn’t it?” Tanya laughed. “I should’ve done more. But I’ll make up for that now.”
Tanya launched her body, knocking the flashlight from Heather’s grip with an outstretched elbow. Crashing to the floor, the torch’s light flickered and went dark, but not before Heather saw the sharp blade of the knife descending in an arc.
She screamed, dodging to her left. Her shoulder bumped the bookshelf further awry. She shot out he
r hand, grappling for the doorknob to the under stairs closet.
“Come here, you bitch,” Tanya growled. Enough moonlight filtered in for Heather to see the knife aimed at her ribs.
Before she could regain her breath, Tanya lunged. Heather closed her hand on the closet handle and wrenched the door open. Tanya howled as the wood slammed her nose.
The knife clattered to the floor, and Heather kicked it away. A pounding sound reached her awareness, accompanied by shouts. “Heather! Are you in there? Open the door, dammit. Heather!”
Rex.
She turned toward the front door, a big mistake. Tanya flung herself onto Heather’s back, shoving her to the ground.
The woman’s heavier weight pressed her face into the carpet. She felt her arms twisted backward, held with an iron grip. Tanya grabbed her hair, pulling on her roots and forcing her neck back at a painful angle. Tears sprang into her eyes, but she couldn’t cry out.
“Heather,” Rex hollered, banging on the front door.
She felt her head being forced down, her face meshing into the carpet. Her teeth dug into her lip, and she tasted blood. Tanya pulled her neck back again, then shoved her head forward as though she were a rag doll. She squeezed her eyes shut, the bridge of her nose flaring with pain.
Wrestling to free her arms, she clenched her teeth when Tanya jerked her wrists higher, straining her sockets. What else could she do?
Rex’s frantic efforts to gain entry gave her inspiration. Folding her knees, she whipped her legs behind, satisfied when she heard a grunt upon impact to her assailant’s lower back. Tanya’s grip loosened enough for her to twist her arms free. Rolling sideways, she smashed her fist into Tanya’s face.
As though she had a glass jaw, Tanya registered surprise just before her eyes rolled up and she toppled over.
Ten
“Rex, thank God you’re here.” Breathless, Heather swung the door open after several failed attempts to slide the dead bolt between her shaking fingers.
“Are you all right?” Tall and powerful, he regarded her with a mixture of fear and relief before sweeping her into his arms. “I was afraid something like this might happen, so I came back. Stupid me, I should have kept the key. I’ve called Jackson. He’s on the way.”
She sagged against him, relishing the fold of his embrace. “It was Tanya. She’s responsible for everything bad that’s happened.” Heather gestured inside. “The power is out. I gather Tanya flipped the circuits.”
He took a few paces into the foyer. “Where is she?”
Heather drew a shuddering breath, pressing a hand to her chest. Her heart still raced. “Just over there. She’s passed out, but—” Her jaw dropped as she strode farther into the house. “That’s impossible. Where did she go?”
From down the street, sirens sounded. The clamor mixed with urgent voices as men from the production crew rushed through the front door.
“Did you see Tanya?” someone yelled. “She was heading for the lake. She can’t take that old rowboat out in the dark. It leaks, and she isn’t a strong swimmer.”
Rex directed the police to chase the producer toward the lake while a crewman headed for the circuit breaker. Remaining behind, Rex rubbed Heather’s neck.
“I couldn’t leave you,” he said, while her heart leaped. “At least until I knew you were safe. Will you be all right?”
“Y-yes.” What was he saying?
“I guess this is good-bye, then.”
The lights snapped on. She looked into his eyes, hoping for any sign of doubt or regret, but couldn’t read his feelings.
“You can’t go. It’s late,” she said, trying not to beg. Was she misconstruing his words? Did he return only to insure her safety, not caring enough to stay?
“Tomorrow is your big day,” he said, his mouth tightening into a firm line. “It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”
She detected a note of wistful inquiry in his tone. “That’s right. But you don’t have to—”
“You need to establish your foothold here. I’d only get in the way. Besides, I have my own agenda, remember?” His lips twisted in self-mockery.
“Of course, and I wish you the best.” So he would pursue his dream after all and sail into the sunset.
Meanwhile, this house was hers. She could set down roots here and have everything she’d always wanted. Almost.
“Thanks for coming back,” she said stiffly. “Good luck when you discuss things with your dad. He’ll rally around, you’ll see.”
“Yeah, right.” His eyes glowed a deep aqua blue as he gave her a last scrutinizing glance. He looked maddeningly handsome in his V-necked sweater and jeans. “Well, enjoy the house.”
“I will.” She gave a tight smile. “Enjoy your boat. I know you’ll get the one you showed me.”
He left, and he took her heart with him.
It was the hardest decision she’d ever made, but there had been no other choice if she meant to fill the emptiness Rex had left behind. September rolled around before she approached the town Rex called home. Davie’s rural origins were evident in the western-style architecture of its shops, his father’s furniture repair store among them.
Pulling her blue pearl Honda Accord into a metered parking space, Heather got out and plunked quarters into the slot. The afternoon sun beat waves of heat onto the pavement. Thunder rumbled in the distance, while a spicy scent tickled her nostrils. Storm clouds funneled from the Everglades in the west, roiling like the emotions inside her. If she’d made a mistake, she’d be sorry for the rest of her life, but she had to try.
Swinging her leather handbag over one shoulder, she smoothed her white capri pants and turquoise top. Turquoise and silver earrings dangled from her ears, a gift from one of her friends to celebrate the inn’s grand opening. Bitter dregs of regret filled her mouth. Don’t think about it. Go see if your sacrifice means anything.
Mustering her courage, she pushed open the shop’s door and entered. Chests of drawers, side tables, headboards, and dining room chairs stood in disarray, while from the far back, she heard a steady grinding noise. The smell of sawdust and lemon oil permeated the place.
An older man looked up from the counter where he’d been punching keys on a calculator. She recognized his face from the TV interview. In real life, he appeared more imposing, his large body and massive shoulders suitable to a life of labor. Crinkles around his eyes showed that he smiled often. His gray hair still held traces of coal black, the color his son had inherited.
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Hello, Mr. Gerard. Is Rex here?” She heard her tremulous tone and hoped he couldn’t detect her anxiety.
“He’s in the back, ma’am. Who should I tell him is calling?” He squinted. “Sorry, don’t I know you?”
“I’m Heather Payne.”
“Oh, you’re that gal from the reality show. Rex has been busy with Dorothy since he’s come home.”
His matter-of-fact tone took her aback. Was this the old gent’s way of telling her that Rex’s attentions had strayed?
“Maybe I shouldn’t bother him, then.”
“He’ll be glad to tell you about her. The boy is obsessed. If you’re hoping to hook him, you’ll be competing with that lady of his.”
Heather’s cheeks warmed. Oh, golly, I’ve made a dreadful mistake. Rex hadn’t taken long to get over her if he already had another girlfriend. Despite his assurances otherwise, their time together must have meant nothing to him except for a brief, passionate fling.
Mortified, she backed toward the entrance. “Perhaps I’ll just—”
“He owes you a big debt.” Giving a conspiratorial wink, Mr. Gerard lowered his voice. “If it wasn’t for you, he’d never have been able to go after what he wanted. The boy was afraid he’d hurt my feelings, but I know a man’s gotta follow his heart. He’s been yearning for Dorothy all his life.”
Heather suppressed a sob. Rex had never mentioned a former flame, but there were probably a lot of things she didn�
�t know about him. Dorothy might have seen him on TV and returned to stake her claim.
“Suggesting he get a loan was the best thing you could have done for him,” Mr. Gerard said. “It’s good when a young ’un takes responsibility and strikes out on his own.”
“He got a loan?” Heather stared at him.
“That’s right,” Rex said, sauntering into view. She inhaled sharply. He leaned against the door jamb, his jeans riding low on his hips, a tattered T-shirt covered with sawdust. Corded muscles ribboned his arms. Even grimy, he looked smashing.
“Hi,” she said, her heart beating a rapid march.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” His aqua eyes, warm and welcoming, eased her nervousness.
“Excuse me, folks,” his dad said, giving them a bemused glance, “I need to finish that sanding job in the back.”
As the elder man scuttled away, Rex raised his eyebrows. “So, what gives, Heather?” Hooking his thumbs into his belt, he waited.
She felt the heat radiating from him. “Your father said you got a loan.”
“I put a down payment on Dorothy.” He must have seen her befuddled expression, because he added, “My boat. I named her after Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, because it took me a while to realize my heart’s desire.”
“That’s great.” She felt as though she’d been broadsided. Was this good or bad, that Dorothy was his boat rather than another woman? Either way, she’d lost him to his dream. Speech evaded her, and she sought words to continue.
“How’s the B&B?” he asked. “Have you had a busy season so far?”
She bit her lip. “I, uh, decided I didn’t like the location. Too closed in for Florida, you know? I mean, Winter Park is a terrific town, but it’s not near the ocean.”
Fortifying herself with a deep breath, she plunged on. “So I sold it and bought a smaller B&B near a marina.”
Wicked Women Whodunit Page 28