by Kim Alexis
From the main parking lot he headed toward the grotto, pausing at the top of the stone steps, surprised to see that the grotto area wasn’t illuminated at all. There were no underwater lights to create the glowing blue of a nighttime pool, no overhead beams shining down on the patios. Instead, the grotto pools looked inky black in the moonlight, the bodies in them mere shadows. He would’ve thought such a setting unsafe if not for the visible presence of roving security guards.
Candles flickered on a few of the patio tables, which lent a small amount of light to the scene. But otherwise the only bright spot in view was about fifteen feet past the far pool, the vivid orange flames of an outdoor fireplace. Several empty chairs were clustered in front of that fireplace, and Marcus realized that might be the perfect spot for them to sit and talk—innocent yet intimate.
He grunted, amending that last thought. As much as he wanted to reconnect with Juliette on a personal level, he had a more important task to accomplish first, that of figuring out how to keep her safe.
Marcus was about to head down the steps for a closer look at the fireplace area when he felt the gentle vibration of a text. It was from Juliette: All done, where should we meet?
Marcus realized he was smiling like an idiot as the two of them went back and forth with several rapid texts. No, she didn’t need him to pick her up; yes, she was catching a ride with a security guard. Yes, he’d be waiting for her at the fountain.
It was all he could do not to pump his fist as he moved to the fountain and stood there waiting. When the cart finally pulled up and Juliette climbed from it, his heart was pounding like crazy.
Once the cart drove off the two of them just stood there for a long moment, alone, the cool night breeze gently caressing the hair around her face. Unable to stop himself, Marcus reached out and brushed a tendril from her cheek.
He was about to speak when he heard what sounded like breaking glass. They both turned to look at a nearby building, the one that housed the resort’s check-in desk and gift shop. Marcus could tell that the gift shop area in front was dark, but some lights were on in the back. His first thought was that someone was creeping around in there and had accidentally knocked something over. But then loud voices followed another crash of glass, and he nixed that theory. Thieves didn’t yell, they whispered.
When a third crash of glass could be heard, Juliette suggested they call security.
Marcus gestured toward the steps. “There’s a guard right down by the grotto. You go get him, I’ll take a closer look.”
“Be careful.”
“You too.” Marcus strode to the building and peered in through the glass. He could see a man and a woman standing in the back, behind the desk, deeply embroiled in an argument. Though the guy seemed relatively calm, the woman was livid. As Marcus watched, she grabbed something from a nearby shelf and threw it toward the man. Again came the sound of breaking glass.
Marcus’s first thought was of a spurned female on the attack, but then he realized that this could just as well be a situation of self-defense. For all he knew she was throwing things to keep the man from advancing on her. Unwilling to risk it, Marcus tried the door, found it unlocked, and stepped inside.
“Why are you doing this?” The woman sounded near hysteria.
The man, however, replied with an exaggerated calm. “You violated company policy. I’m sorry, but it’s as simple as that.”
Marcus hesitated, as yet unnoticed. This didn’t sound like an attack.
The man continued. “Look, you broke the rules, so now you’re fired. It’s that simple. Please finish clearing out your desk. I’m calling security to escort you from the property.”
Ah, so it was a firing. Marcus turned to go, eager to slip out before either of them realized someone had been eavesdropping on this very private exchange.
“Rules can be bent sometimes!” The woman’s voice was voice thick with tears. “Don’t you know that? Didn’t you learn your lesson last summer? Wasn’t one death enough for you?”
Marcus froze, hand on the knob. What did she say?
Wasn’t one death enough for you?
JULIETTE FOLLOWED BEHIND THE security guard, holding her breath as he swung open the door to the main office. They both gasped, startled to see Marcus right there, as if he’d been about to come out. He stepped aside to let the guard pass, then moved out of the building, took Juliette by the elbow, and led her a safe distance away.
He relayed what he’d overheard in there, ending with an odd comment the woman had made to the man about a death. Eyes wide, Juliette moved toward the glass of the front window to peer inside. As she suspected, the people in question were Reggie and Iliana. From the conversation Marcus just described, it sounded like Reggie had found out that Iliana gave more info than she should have to Raven—and now Iliana had been fired for it.
But what did Iliana mean, “wasn’t one death enough for you?” . . . ?
Together Juliette and Marcus went to sit on the edge of the fountain and wait for someone to emerge. It didn’t take long. Soon the door swung open and out came a sobbing Iliana, an overloaded cardboard box under her arm, followed by the security guard.
Juliette jumped up. “Iliana, are you okay?”
The woman turned, but when she saw Juliette, her grief gave way to pure rage and her lips curled back in a snarl. “Get away from me! I lost my job, thanks to you!”
Juliette took a step back as Iliana went on, her voice growing even louder.
“You just had to tell him how I violated company policy!”
Juliette shook her head. “No. I didn’t breathe a word of that to anyone. Neither did Didi.”
“Oh yeah? Well, you two are the only ones who knew!”
Marcus stepped forward, but Juliette put a hand on his arm to keep him from overreacting. “We didn’t tell a soul, I promise.”
“Liar!” Iliana turned and marched off toward the parking lot, the security guard falling in step behind her.
Juliette watched them. Regardless of what Iliana believed, there was still an important matter to be settled. “What did you mean in there when you said wasn’t one death enough? Whose death? Raven’s?”
Iliana picked up the pace as she spat out her reply. “Sorry, I don’t speak to traitors.”
Once they reached the car, Juliette and Marcus watched Iliana shove the box into the trunk and then get in and head out. They stood there, silent for a long moment as the car disappeared around the stand of palm trees. A few seconds later they heard the squeal of tires as it pulled out onto the road and sped away.
“Well, that was a shame.”
“You can say that again.” Marcus clicked his tongue. “She was definitely not speaking just above a whisper.”
The tension broken, Juliette flashed Marcus a small smile. “Funny man.”
Even the guard chuckled as he excused himself and returned to his post.
Now that the drama was over, Marcus suggested they head down to the grotto, but Juliette wanted to talk to Reggie first. She wanted to know what Iliana had meant by her comment.
When they got to the office, they found Reggie standing at the check-in desk in back, talking on the phone. As they moved forward, he glanced up and saw them. His eyebrows arched.
“Never mind. She’s right here. Yes, at the front office. Okay.” He hung up the phone and looked again at Juliette. “That was the guard at the front gate.”
“Is this about Iliana?”
Reggie shook his head, somber. “No. There’s someone here to see you.”
Juliette glanced at Marcus. “To see me? At this hour?”
Reggie nodded, coming around the desk and gesturing toward the door. “It’s the police. You’re wanted down at the station, for questioning.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
MARCUS WAS GOING NUTS. Juliette had been in the interrogation room for over an hour, with no signs she’d be emerging any time soon.
What could possibly be taking so long?
&
nbsp; He had called Nate the moment the police car took her away from Palm Grotto, waking the man up and demanding to know what was going on. The groggy FBI agent said he had no idea but that he would try to find out. He called back fifteen minutes later, just as Marcus was turning into the parking lot of the Cahuilla Springs police station.
“The best anyone on this end can figure, this is a local action, not one that has anything to do with the agency.”
Marcus hadn’t known whether to be relieved or not.
At the moment he just wanted to be in there with Juliette. He needed to be there, at her side. Not surprisingly the officer manning the front desk looked at him like he was crazy for even asking such a thing. Clenching his jaw, Marcus marched outside and called Nate yet again, asking the man to pull a few strings and get him in there.
“Tell them this woman needs to be protected at all costs.”
Nate agreed to try, but so far it didn’t seem to be working. A half hour later, Marcus stood outside, waiting to hear back from his friend. Then the station door opened and out stepped a tall, muscular young man in a green polo shirt, one that bore the now-familiar logo of Palm Grotto Resort and Spa. He moved past Marcus and down the front steps, then stopped and pulled out a cell phone.
“Hey, excuse me!” Marcus took the steps two at a time.
“Yeah?” The young man barely glanced back as he pressed some buttons on the phone and raised it to his ear.
“Are you from Palm Grotto?” Marcus came to a stop beside him. “I saw the shirt.”
“Yeah, so?” He turned his face away and spoke into the phone. “I’m done. Come get me.”
Marcus waited. If this kid was calling for a ride, maybe they would have a few minutes to talk before it came.
“So wake her back up. Whatever. I don’t care. Just come get me.” He disconnected the call without saying good-bye.
A real charmer, this one.
He shot Marcus a glance. “What do you want?”
“I’m not sure. An update, I guess. Information. Are you here because of that supermodel who got murdered?”
The man squinted, reaching into another pocket for a pack of cigarettes. “What are you, a reporter?”
“No. I’m a guest at the resort.” Marcus flashed his room key at the guy as proof, then held out his hand for a shake. “Marcus Stone, nice to meet you.”
Ignoring the outstretched hand, the kid began slapping the cigarette pack against the heel of his hand. “So? Why should I tell you anything?”
“Do you know Juliette Taylor?”
“Of course. What about her?”
Marcus fixed his gaze on the guy. “She’s a friend of mine. A good friend. I’m just trying to help her get a handle on the situation.”
“Oh yeah, they knew each other, back in the day, right? Her and the one who died?”
Marcus nodded, watching as the kid shook out a cigarette, held it between his lips, flicked a lighter, and sucked in its flame until the tip glowed orange. With two fingers the guy pulled it from his mouth, then blew a long, straight stream of smoke into the chilly night air. When he returned it to his lips for another drag, he surprised Marcus by extending his hand this time. “Ty Kirkland. So what do you want to know?”
They shook. Marcus relaxed then, leaning one hip against the railing behind him. “I’m not even sure. Just facts. Information. Do you know who their main suspects are at this point?” Do you know if Juliette is one of those suspects? He never would’ve expected such a thing, but the cop who’d picked her up from the resort had treated her oddly, with suspicion. Like a common criminal.
Ty studied him through another deep drag. “They think I did it.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, cop shows up at my house tonight, says I have to come with him. I’m like, you’re kidding, right? My wife and kid are both sick. She’s been waiting all day for me to get home from work so I could take over, and they want to drag me down here and start firing questions at me?” He flicked his ashes toward the parking lot. “I was no fan of that cougar who died, but I sure didn’t have any reason to kill her! I’m thinking that’s why they finally released me, ’cause they got no proof and I got no motive. No means either. Opportunity, sure, okay, I probably had more opportunity than anyone else, but I didn’t have any motive. And I sure haven’t got any poisonous drug. Like I would waste two seconds on some dried-up old has-been anyway.”
Marcus worked to keep his expression blank as Ty continued.
“See, the killer put some drug in the mud, and I’m the one who put the mud in the warmer. Since I was the last person to handle the jar before Brooke, they think I’m the one who put the drug in there. Yeah, right.”
“Let me ask you something, when you say ‘mud,’ do you mean actual mud? Or is that just what it’s called?”
Ty shrugged. “Well it’s not like they just go outside and scoop it up from a mud puddle. I mean, it looks kind of like mud, you know, except it’s green. Comes in a jar, like cold cream.”
Marcus nodded. Beauty products weren’t exactly his area of expertise. “So what do they do with it, actually? How is it used?”
“Basically, they exfoliate the person’s body, then slather on the mud, then wrap the person up in cloth so it can soak up real good into their skin.”
Marcus grunted. “Sounds like a pretty clever way to drug someone, if you ask me.”
Ty thought about that for a moment. “Guess so, now that you mention it.”
“So any idea who put the drug in the mud?”
Ty took a final drag on his cigarette, then tossed it to the ground and stubbed it out with his toe. “No clue.”
“When would someone have had access to it? You think somebody snuck into the treatment room after you put the mud in the warmer and added something into it then?”
Ty pulled out his pack of cigarettes, started to light another, then thought better of it and slid the pack back into his pocket. “Highly doubt it. Between therapists, clients, and aides, those rooms are almost continually occupied all day long. It’d be hard to pull off something like that in the daytime without being seen.”
“So when do you think it was added?”
Ty turned his face to look off toward the parking lot. “I’m thinking early that morning, or maybe even the night before. I kept telling the cops that, but they’re not hearing what I’m saying.”
“Which is . . .”
Ty returned his gaze to Marcus. “Which is, I’m in charge of inventory. I’m the one who stocks the mud jars in the cabinet. There should’ve been three jars in there yesterday morning, but there was only one. I didn’t have time to worry about it right then, but it did bother me. Where did the other two jars go? All three had been in there the day before—and I knew they hadn’t been used with other clients. Anyway, I only needed one jar right then, so I pulled it, brought it into the room, and put it down in the warmer. Figured I’d worry about the inventory issue later.”
Marcus didn’t quite follow.
“Don’t you get it, man? I think the killer snuck in the night before or early that morning and put the poison in the jar then.”
“What does that have to do with two missing jars?”
Ty exhaled loudly. “Think about it. The killer needed to make sure I would use the jar that had the poison in it. So my guess is he took away the other two jars, just to be safe. Can’t grab the wrong jar if there’s only one in there.”
The men were interrupted by the sharp honk of a car’s horn as it pulled in at the curb. Ty’s ride.
Marcus thanked the young man for his help.
“No problem, Ms. Taylor’s a real nice lady. I only talked to you for her sake.” Ty began moving toward the car, then he turned back with a smile. “Of course, you’re welcome to leave me a big tip at checkout, if you want.”
Once the kid was gone, Marcus turned and made his way back up the steps, his mind swirling with all he’d just learned.
What a nightmare.
> Nate still hadn’t called, so he decided to go back inside where he could sit down. To his surprise, however, as soon as the cop behind the desk saw him come in, she waved him over.
“There you are. Your name Stone?”
Marcus nodded.
She reached for the phone. “Good. Somebody was just out here looking for you.”
“Oh?”
She spoke into the receiver for a moment and then hung up. Before she could explain any further, a uniformed officer appeared in the doorway and invited Marcus to follow him down the hall.
Marcus exhaled slowly. Good ol’ Nate had come through for him after all.
He thought the guy was bringing him to join Juliette, but instead they ended up in a small, dark observation booth that looked in on the room where she was being questioned. Through one-way glass Marcus saw Juliette sitting at a table in the next room, across from a grizzled old guy in a suit.
“That’s Detective Lopez.” The cop jerked his chin toward the man sitting opposite Juliette. “He’s the lead detective on the case.”
Marcus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The lead detective? In a sleepy little desert town like this one? “Get a lot of murders out here, do you?”
“More than you’d think.” Clearly the cop didn’t pick up on Marcus’s sarcasm. “Usually, though, it’s just some homeless person who got rolled for his dough, or maybe a bar fight that went too far. This is our first real high-profile murder in a long time.”
Did the guy have to sound so excited about it? A woman was dead, after all. Marcus thought about pointing that out but held his tongue. This was a time to listen and think, not to act. No need to make an enemy here just because he was ready to hit something.
Or someone.
Marcus focused on the conversation on the other side of the glass, and it didn’t take long to understand that the detective wasn’t just asking Juliette some basic questions. He was interrogating her about Raven’s death.