by LENA DIAZ,
Dex shut the panel, went back to where he remembered the light switch being and flipped it on. A single, dim light popped to life overhead, revealing an incredibly unorganized pile of tools, old paint cans, a riding lawn mower and hundreds of other odds and ends. He grabbed a machete out of one pile and hefted it in his hand. If it came to a fight with an alligator or a snake, that machete would be good to have. But it also wasn’t something he wanted in the house for the killer to get a hold of. The idea of someone like Amber coming up against a weapon like that had him leaving it where he’d found it. Too dangerous. He couldn’t risk it. He’d just have to brave the waters outside again and hope he was as lucky the second time as he had been the first—that he’d encounter no wildlife of the slithering or biting variety.
When he went outside, he noticed Amber and Buddy still waiting for him, but Garreth was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’d had to flip fuses inside the house? Lights shone from both the first and second floors, so the generator was definitely doing its job. And he could see the silhouettes of several people in the kitchen behind the porch.
He studied the brackish water for any sinister shadows beneath the surface or the shine of snake scales, then waded back in. If anything, the current was stronger this time. And the water had risen noticeably and was now halfway up his chest. By the time he struggled to the porch steps, he saw the water was cresting just below the second highest step, a foot below where the bottom floor began. Amber’s worried gaze confirmed his own fears as he emerged from the water.
“Has it ever gotten this high before?” he asked.
“Not that I know of,” Buddy interjected, clicking off the flashlight.
Amber agreed and handed Dex a towel to dry off. “I think we might need to move everyone upstairs, just in case.”
“I think you’re right.” He motioned toward the kitchen door. “What’s going on in there?”
Amber gave him a haunted look. “Garreth is directing everyone to empty out the freezer.”
He gave her a tight nod and pulled on his jeans before pulling his T-shirt on over his head.
When they went inside, Dex stopped in surprise. Everyone was sitting around the huge kitchen island. Stacks of pints of ice cream formed a mound in the middle and the group was sorting through them, apparently grabbing their favorites.
Mitchell handed a chocolate-mint pint to Amy and she gave him a shy smile in return. Derek shoved a spoonful of Moose Tracks into his mouth, then held out his hands in a helpless gesture.
Garreth looked disgusted with all of them as he leaned against the kitchen wall like a general watching over his unruly troops.
Freddie motioned toward the refrigerator. “We put most of the veggies in the refrigerator freezer, but there wasn’t anywhere to store all this ice cream. Might as well enjoy it before it goes to waste, right?”
Dex’s stomach clenched with nausea and he headed through the archway without a word.
Amber hurried behind him and caught up to him when he was at the bottom of the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He looked down at her. “It just seems...disrespectful, to sit there enjoying ice cream, knowing the reason it was taken out of the freezer.” He shrugged and headed up the stairs. “Stupid, I know.”
She hurried after him. “Not stupid at all. I totally get it. Where are we going?”
“I’m getting a shower to clean all that swamp muck off me.”
“Okay. But what are you going to wear?”
He stopped at the top of the stairs, his gaze shooting to the closed door on his room. “Good point. I need my suitcase.” His steps were much slower as he approached the door. “Do you still have that ring of keys?”
She pulled them out of her pocket and held up the skeleton key.
“Thanks. Here, hold this while I go inside.” He handed her the gun.
She looked around the dark hallway. “Hurry,” she whispered. “It seems creepy up here now, you know.”
“Believe me. I know.” He unlocked the door and rushed inside, keeping his gaze averted from the bed.
Once he had his suitcase, he was just about to step into the hall when movement off to his left had him whirling around. The room was empty. There was no one there, no one except...Mallory. He glanced quickly to the bed, as if to assure himself she was still there and hadn’t become some disembodied ghost haunting the mansion. She still lay in the center of the bed where he’d found her. He swallowed hard and looked away. He stood there for a full minute, trying to figure out what he’d seen.
“Dex?” Amber’s voice called to him from the hallway. “Is something wrong?”
Yes. But what? What had he seen out of the corner of his eye?
“Dex?”
“Coming.” He left the room and locked the door behind him.
* * *
AMBER STOOD IN the opening between the great room and the kitchen, facing the great room and keeping the others from going into the kitchen. Not that anyone else wanted to, but Dex was being his usual protective self and obviously wanted her where he could see her, but didn’t want her to be a part of what he and his fellow outsiders were doing—storing Mallory’s body in the freezer.
There hadn’t been the need for a discussion about who would take care of the task. The Mystic Glades residents had respectfully kept their distance while the outsiders took care of one of their own, gently wrapping Mallory in the comforter from the bed upstairs and then carefully carrying her downstairs in a solemn procession that had reminded Amber of a funeral.
The top of the freezer clicked into place in the kitchen behind her, and soon she heard the sounds of the men taking turns washing their hands at the sink. Then, without a word, Garreth, Mitchell and Derek filed past her into the great room, each of them looking deflated and depressed.
Dex stopped beside her, crossing his arms as he surveyed the room.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
“I will be. I didn’t expect it to hurt so much, putting her in there.” His voice was too low for the others to hear, but even so she could hear the pain behind his words.
She sidled closer until her hip pressed against the side of his thigh, offering him comfort with that one small touch. “I’m here for you.”
He let out a shuddering breath. “I know. Thank you.”
Thunder boomed overhead, making her jump. “Good grief. I can’t believe this rain.” As if remembering the rising flood in the backyard at the same time, they both turned around and headed to the back porch.
“What’s up?” Buddy called out, hurrying to catch up to them. He stopped on the porch beside the two of them. “Oh, my God.”
The water was lapping against the edges of the porch boards.
“We have to go upstairs. Now,” Amber declared.
They all hurried back inside, but Dex hesitated and glanced at the freezer.
Amber put her hand on his arm. “There’s nothing we can do now. The lower floor is about to flood.”
“I can’t just let...” He rushed past her to the great room. “All right, everyone. The water is rising and is about to come into the house.” A collective gasp went up around the room. “We’ll need to head upstairs. But first, everyone grab what you can from the pantry. Grab things we can eat and drink without having to cook. Don’t forget cups, plates, utensils. Garbage bags would be good too. Hurry.”
There was a big rush into the kitchen and everyone started grabbing things from the pantry.
“Amber, we’ll need can openers. And is there something we could use to heat beans or anything in cans?”
“I think there’s a hot plate.” She grabbed Amy as she headed past her. “Amy, help me find it, okay? I think it’s over in one of these cabinets.” She and Amy rummaged through the cabinets and found two hot plates
and a can opener. Amy ran through the great room to the stairs to take them up.
Amber looked around for Dex and froze when she saw what he was doing. He’d gathered his friends and they were wrestling with the heavy freezer, lifting it on top of the marble-topped island. Their muscles bulged and strained as they moved it into place.
Amber noted they’d had to unplug it. The cord dangled over the side. She grabbed an extension cord out of the pantry, sliding past Buddy as he made a second run for more food. She plugged the cord into an outlet above the sink, wrapped most of the extra slack around the freezer handle to keep it from dragging on the floor, then plugged the freezer’s cord into it.
The freezer hummed to life. Dex pulled her against him in a fierce hug, then kissed the top of her head. When he pulled back, he framed her face in his hands. “You’re a wonderful person, Amber Callahan. Thank you. Again.”
She smiled, then let out a little squeak as water began soaking into her shoes. “The water’s coming in. Hurry up, everybody. We have to get upstairs.”
Everyone made a last dash to the pantry, then ran through the great room, through the maze, to the stairs. The water was already coming in through the front door, too, and seeping in through the walls.
Dex ushered everyone from the room, waiting until they were all safely out of the kitchen and on their way toward the stairs before joining Amber at the archway. He put his hand on her back, encouraging her forward, but she froze and looked back at the great room.
Dex turned around, shoving her behind him as he looked for the threat.
“Dex, the trunk, the trunk.”
He frowned back at her and she pointed to the trunk over by the fireplace. The one with the guns locked inside. Except it wasn’t locked anymore, and the lid was standing open.
She and Dex splashed through the water that was already up to their ankles and reached the trunk at the same time.
The guns were gone.
Chapter Thirteen
Amber perched on the edge of a wing chair by the window in the house’s second library, the upstairs one, while Dex finished making his rounds on the other side of the room, insuring everyone was okay. Like the great room, the east wing library had plenty of seating, but it was spread out in small groups throughout the stacks of bookshelves so that not everyone was visible at once. That’s why Amber had chosen these specific two wing chairs for her and Dex—because at least there was no one behind them, just a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. Ten feet away, the bookshelf ended and there was an aisle that opened up, like a hallway in the middle of the room. She kept watching that dark opening while trying to keep an eye on Dex.
He finished speaking to Freddie and Buddy, who were seated to the right of the door that led into the hall, nodded at Mitchell, who was curling up to go to sleep on one of the couches, and headed toward Amber.
He glanced toward the bookshelf behind them, perhaps to make sure no one could possibly squeeze behind it to listen to them, and took his seat. They both leaned toward each other, but they continued to watch the others.
“What did you find out?” she said, keeping her voice low.
“I didn’t want to announce the guns were missing, because I didn’t want to cause a panic. Instead, I was more subtle, or tried to be, asking each person if they were okay, if they’d gotten what they needed from downstairs.” He motioned to the stacks of goods everyone had deposited in the common area against one wall, their new pantry, essentially.
“I’m guessing no one admitted to sneaking into the great room and breaking into the trunk.”
“Well, I didn’t think they would. But based on what everyone said, I was able to pretty much corroborate most of their stories. I’m ruling out Amy, Freddie and Derek. And, of course, you and me. But so far I can’t prove the rest of them didn’t have an opportunity to get to that trunk. The lock was busted, which implies the thief didn’t have a key. But the only person who did have the key was me, so that doesn’t help.”
“Aren’t you ruling out Buddy?”
He shook his head. “No. I can’t. No one seems to remember seeing him carrying anything but a case of water upstairs. If he wasn’t carrying other things, then where was he while the others were in the pantry?”
She stared across the room at Buddy and Freddie, who were sitting on opposite ends of a couch now, eyes closed, apparently falling asleep sitting up. “I just can’t imagine that Buddy would take the guns. Assuming that the person who took the guns is the killer, why would Buddy shoot Mallory? He didn’t know her. And if you’re the true target, which seems likely, then again, Buddy barely knows you. What motive would he have to want you dead?”
“Okay, with me as the target, who stands to gain something by my death? It would make sense that only Garreth, Derek and Mitchell should be the true suspects. I pay each of them a healthy salary, with excellent benefits. Even Garreth, who takes other clients besides me, earns a generous retainer whether he does work for me each week or not. And our contract pays him escalating amounts above the retainer if he ends up working full-time on any particular issue. With me out of the picture, he’d be at the mercy of my replacement, who might very well hire a different lawyer for future work. I just don’t see him gaining anything with me gone.”
“All right. Makes sense. As long as the gain is financial. Have you done something to him that might make him want revenge?”
He laughed. “Revenge? Garreth? We’re not exactly drinking buddies. It’s all business. If anyone had revenge on their mind it would be Derek. We’ve both dated the same women before, although not at the same time, of course.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
He grinned. “There’s been some jealousy in the past, on his part. He claims sometimes women see me and leave him because of my money.”
“Is that true?”
He shrugged. “Probably. But we usually end up laughing and drinking over the memories later. So far neither of us has been particularly successful in the relationship department, long-term.”
“Was Mallory one of the women you both dated?”
He shook his head. “No. She was my mistake alone.” He grimaced. “Sorry, that sounds callous now. There’ve only been a couple of women we’ve actually both dated. The last was Ronnie—Veronica Walker. She was a bit...aggressive. It took some convincing before she understood that it was really over. I considered a restraining order until she finally quit coming around. I heard Derek dated her a few times after I broke up with her. But, as far as I know, that was very brief.”
Amber tapped the arm of her chair and considered what he’d said. “Okay, so Garreth has no obvious reason to want you dead and seems to benefit more with you healthy. Derek is a friend and you’ve had some quibbles in the past, but it doesn’t seem to have impacted your friendship or his position on your board. You did say he was a board member?”
“Yeah. He’s one hell of a smart guy. He sits on several boards, not just mine.”
“Does he get to run the company with you out of the picture?”
He smiled. “That’s not how it works. For one thing, it’s privately owned, not publicly traded. So the company would pass to my benefactor in my will.”
“Who’s your benefactor?”
“Jake Young.”
“Faye’s Jake?”
“One and the same. He doesn’t know he’s the benefactor, though. I’m sure he assumes I’ve willed my assets to my family.”
“Your family?”
“Mother, father, brother. All of them live in California. I haven’t seen them in years. And there’s no reason to talk about them.”
She disagreed, but since they were trying to solve a murder, she was willing to let it drop for now. “Then we’ve got one more person to consider—Mitchell.”
Dex grew quiet and stared out the w
indow. Was he thinking about his family? Or was he maybe thinking that Mitchell was their best suspect? She gave him a minute, but when he didn’t respond, she waved her hand in front of his face.
“Dex? We were talking about Mitchell. Do you think he could be our suspect?”
He turned to look at her, his eyes dark, troubled. “As a matter of fact, I do. Mitchell’s been my assistant for a couple of years, but I don’t know much about his private life. Except for one thing. He was infatuated with Mallory.” He waved his hand as if to dispel any bad thoughts she had. “We didn’t both date her or anything like that. I brought her to an outside-the-office company event where everyone brought their families or dates.”
“Like a company picnic?”
“More or less, a get-to-know-you kind of thing, supposed to make teams work better together according to a consultant who recommended that I do those. We hold them twice a month, usually at a restaurant. But sometimes we’ll go to a movie or bowling or something like that. Just the top execs and their families, about twenty-five or thirty people at any particular outing. I remember Mitchell being like a puppy dog following Mallory around that first time. When she mentioned it to me later, I didn’t think much of it. But he did it again, at another event, and I had to tell him to leave her alone.”
“How did he take that?”
“As you’d expect. He’s a grown man. He was embarrassed and resentful but got over it fairly quickly. Or, at least, I’d thought he had. When he found out that I’d broken up with Mallory, I remember hearing from one of the other guys that Mitchell called her to offer his sympathies and a shoulder if she ever needed it. I remember thinking that was a bit odd, to offer your boss’s ex-fiancée a shoulder to cry on. Especially when the two of them weren’t even close.”