Beauty to Die For

by Kim Alexis

  Marcus scowled. “Yeah, it was just posturing this time. Next time, we may not be so lucky.”

  The detective nodded, his expression grave. “I’m concerned about the placement of the fingerprints. We found them on the doorknob and the note, both of which make sense. But there was another match.” He looked at Juliette. “On your cell phone.”

  Juliette’s eyes widened. “Wait. You’re saying while Ty was in my room, he fooled with my cell phone?” She glanced from Marcus to Didi. “I put it on the bedside table while I slept. When I saw the technician fingerprinting it, I thought she was wasting her time.”

  Bryant leaned in closer. “Ms. Taylor, can you think of anything he might’ve been doing with your phone? We could send it over to the digital forensics lab in L.A. and get them to figure it out, but I hate to do that if we don’t have to.”

  Her expression blank, Juliette reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell, holding it like a dirty diaper. Sensing her reluctance, Marcus offered to help and took it from her, unlocked the screen, and then double-tapped the main button to bring up the icons that would indicate which apps had been used most recently. There were only three: phone, text messaging, and contacts.

  Taking a deep breath, he touched the phone icon first and pulled up a list of activity. One quick look at the time stamps showed there had been no calls, in or out, during the period in question.

  Ditto for text messages.

  That left the contacts, which carried no time stamp. Marcus looked at Bryant. “Either he was smart enough to erase his tracks, or he rooted through her address book,” he said, then he met Juliette’s eyes. “His note did say he would be in touch. My best guess? I think he went in here to get my number.”

  IT FELT SO STRANGE to be with Greg, alone, afraid she was intruding on his work. Crystal could tell this was the wrong time to bring up Valentine. She stayed anyway, moving to the doorway of the booth and filling the sudden silence between them by asking about the equipment inside. He seemed pleased by her interest and proud to show off some of his favorite toys—high-powered spotlight, elaborate snakebite kit, night vision binoculars.

  She gestured toward the little black-and-white monitor mounted on the shelf, which showed a view of the grotto, nearly empty here at the dinner hour. Soon the screen flickered and jumped to a new image, that of the spa interior, also empty.

  “Is this where you guys monitor the security cameras?”

  “Partly. This one hops from camera to camera, with each image holding for about twenty seconds before changing. I much prefer the control panel over at the security office, which has six screens, each one dedicated to a single camera. You can watch them all at the same time, no hopping required.”

  “I heard one of the cameras is broken,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Yeah, behind Arrowscale. I’m the one who reported it, actually.”

  “Oh?”

  He nodded. “Doesn’t happen often, but once in a while one of the cameras goes out. A chipmunk chews through a cable or whatever. Anyway, I was manning the panel on Wednesday morning when I realized screen four had gone blank. First I thought it was a loose wire, but I fiddled for a while there at the monitor and never could get it to work. So finally I went and checked out the camera itself. It’s mounted up kind of high, but it wasn’t hard to see even from down on the ground that the lens had been busted. I figured maybe a rock got thrown up there by a lawn mower or something.”

  “What did you do?” Crystal asked, thinking how cute Greg looked when he was being so official and all.

  He shrugged. “Followed procedure. Wrote up a priority maintenance request, turned it in. They checked it out right away, and, sure enough, for some reason the glass lens was shattered. They ordered a replacement, said it would be two or three days before it came in. I didn’t think much more about it—until everything happened the next day. Then . . .” His face colored. “Well, never mind.”

  “No. What? What were you going to say?”

  He shrugged. “I just keep thinking how convenient, you know? Of all the cameras on the property, the one that breaks is the one pointed at the building where there’s a murder? That sounds more than a little suspicious to me.”

  “You’re not the only one. Did you tell this to the police?”

  “Yeah, but they hardly seemed to care. I don’t know if they even followed up on it. Can you imagine? It seems so obvious but they were like, yeah, okay, whatever. They remember me from when Val died, I’m sure. Probably think I’m some kind of nut job. Paranoid. Delusional.”

  Taking a deep breath, Crystal moved closer and put her hands on each side of Greg’s face. “I believe you, Greg, about the camera—and about Val’s murder.”

  Tears filled his eyes. There was such gratitude in his expression, she wondered if she was the very first person to say that to him since his sister’s death.

  She continued, her tone softening. “Once this whole Raven mess is over, I’m going to help you. I have an idea about solving your sister’s death.”

  He blinked, sending twin tracks of tears down his cheeks.

  Tempted to wipe away those tears, Crystal withdrew her hands instead, not wanting to cross a line. “But let’s get through all of this stuff with Raven’s death first. You need to talk to the police again about the camera issue. Make them look into it. Tell them exactly what you told me. Surely you can convince them how significant it is.”

  He took a deep breath, let it out. Wiped his cheeks with the back of his hands. “I tried, Crystal. Seriously, they don’t care.”

  “Then maybe you and Marcus should talk to them together.”

  “Marcus?”

  “The guy who was just here. With Juliette and Didi? He says the same thing, that the killer must have broken the camera on purpose, ahead of time. He thinks it was probably an employee, one who familiarized himself with the security coverage throughout the resort and figured out the best way to come and go without being seen.”

  Greg gestured toward the road. “You mean like Iliana did? Sneaking in while the front gate was unattended?”

  Shaking her head, she tried to explain the circles Marcus had drawn on the map and how he’d concluded that the safest and most logical entry point for not being seen would have been to come in somewhere along the jogging trail, hiking in from the west. “If someone knew what they were doing, they could’ve made it all the way into Arrowscale unseen, if not for that one camera.”

  “Exactly. You really think Marcus might be willing to bring me into the loop? Join forces?”

  “Yes. I do. He’s a good guy.”

  Greg’s eyes shone. “You know what this means, don’t you? If I could help solve Raven’s murder, then people just might take me more seriously about Val’s death too.”

  Crystal studied the handsome man in front of her. She wanted to tell him it was even better than he thought, that Marcus was affiliated with the FBI—which meant he had access to resources that were even more vast and effective than the police. But that wasn’t her secret to share. Instead, she just touched his arm and whispered, “Let’s hope so. At least you’re not alone in this anymore, you know?”

  Greg’s beautiful brown eyes focused in on her, and for a moment she thought he might kiss her. Instead, he leaned close and whispered in her ear.

  “It’s so true, ‘He that can have patience can have what he will.’” Pulling back, he gave her a nod and a grin. “That’s what Benjamin Franklin says anyway.”

  Half confused, half intrigued, she angled a look at him. Did he mean his dream of solving his sister’s murder?

  Or Crystal’s dream of a relationship between the two of them?

  Standing there beside him now, she could only hope he was talking about both.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  MARCUS COULDN'T BEAR TO let Juliette out of his sight. At the moment she was in her room, freshening up for her final keynote address while he waited on her patio. Once she was ready, he would w
alk her to the conference center, after which he could finally go check out the western perimeter for signs of entry. Even with a pending confession, Marcus knew that any additional proof of the crime would be useful. They just needed to hurry, because the sun would set in about twenty minutes and then it would be too dark to see.

  Taking a deep breath and blowing it out, Marcus told himself to chill. Waiting for a possible phone call from Ty Kirkland had Marcus’s nerves on edge—as did the various developments that were unfolding down at the station.

  First had come news about Xena, that the moment she was brought into interrogation, she started to squeal, admitting she blackmailed Raven—with Andre as her partner in crime. In response, police apprehended Andre too, and now both were in custody and pointing fingers at each other with vigor.

  The detectives were also holding Iliana Hernandez. Thanks to Didi’s discovery about the shoeprint, police had gone to her home to round her up for questioning. While there, an eagle-eyed lieutenant spotted an empty spray-paint can on the floor of her car, at which point Iliana broke down and confessed to vandalizing the sign.

  Thus far, then, they had three suspects in custody, owning up to two different crimes: Xena and Andre and their blackmail scheme, and Iliana and her vandalism. But all three denied having anything to do with Raven’s murder. Still, if the note left on Juliette’s pillow could be believed, there was a good chance they were lying about that. In his note Ty had offered “immunity in exchange for information.” He probably meant to implicate others with his confession—most likely these three—though at this point that was mere conjecture. Whatever information he had, or why he thought it so valuable, wouldn’t be known until he made contact.

  Marcus glanced at his phone, willing Ty to call.

  What is taking so long?

  Why leave a note saying you’ll be in touch and then not follow through?

  At least everything was set on this end, the various people poised to spring into action at a moment’s notice. The DA was standing by to hear Ty’s offer, and police were ready to head out and pick the man up as soon as they had a location.

  Obviously Ty had heard the rumor about Marcus being with the FBI, which must be why he’d chosen Marcus as his go-between. That Raven’s murder was a matter for the police and not the Bureau probably hadn’t even dawned on him.

  Just in case there was more to it than that, however, the FBI was on alert as well. Depending on what Ty had to say, they may need to be a part of things after all.

  Marcus knew his biggest challenge would be controlling his own temper once he and Ty were on the phone. The thought of that man breaking into Juliette’s room and hovering over her as she slept enraged him. But if he wanted to bring things to a close, he would hold his tongue and deal with the matter at hand.

  He was trying to build up his resolve on that thought when the door opened and Juliette emerged, the sight of her banishing everything else from his mind. He stood, eyes wide. She was a vision in white and smelled like azalea blossoms in springtime. How had he ever been so foolish as to let this woman slip through his fingers?

  Thank You, Lord, for giving me another chance with her.

  “No call yet?” Her brow furrowed as she closed her door and made sure it locked.

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe I have to miss your final talk for this.”

  “It’s worth it. You need to be ready if and when that phone rings.” She gave him a sweet smile. “And I can always recap things for you later if you’d like.”

  “Yes, I would like that, my own personal recap, from the Juliette Taylor herself.” Marcus stepped closer. “May I kiss you? Or would that mess up your lipstick?”

  She shrugged then gave him a wink. “Eh, lipstick can be repaired.”

  He breathed her in as he slid his arms around her waist. “How can one woman be so beautiful?”

  She didn’t answer but instead touched her lips to his—tender, sweet, lingering. He gently kissed her in return, his embrace tenuous, as though squeezing too hard might mar the perfection.

  Finally he stepped back and gave her one last perusal. “You sure do clean up nice, lady.”

  She flashed him her million-dollar smile as she pulled from her bag a hand mirror and a pink tube to fix the damage. “Yeah? Keep saying things like that, and I might let you mess up my lipstick again later.”

  GREG WAS RELIEVED FROM his post in time to escort Crystal to the conference center, where she would begin part two of her long work day. She moved her car to the employee lot as he followed along behind in a cart, then she climbed in beside him and they were off, Crystal relishing the heat of Greg’s body, the coolness of the evening air, and the streaks of orange and gold that filled the sky as they drove across the lush grounds of the resort.

  When they reached their destination, she was thrilled to see Marcus up ahead, just walking into the conference center with Juliette.

  Pulse surging, Crystal turned to Greg with a broad smile. “What time do you get off?”

  “In a few minutes, as soon as I punch out. Why? Don’t you have to work?”

  “Yeah, but this isn’t about me. Park the cart. It’s time for that introduction.”

  ONCE MARCUS DELIVERED JULIETTE to the safety of the conference center—and Didi’s watchful eye—he moved back outside and picked up the pace, gaze on the sky. The sun was at the horizon, but hopefully the light would linger long enough for him to accomplish his goal.

  Just as he reached the parking lot, however, he was intercepted by Crystal and the young security guard from the booth. The girl seemed intent on introducing them, though Marcus wasn’t sure why until she explained that Greg was the one who first discovered the broken security camera behind the Arrowscale building. “His theory about what happened pretty much lines up with yours.”

  Now this was worth the interruption. Marcus had been planning to ask Orlando about the camera issue later, but a firsthand account would be even better.

  Crystal had to get to work, so she excused herself and left the two of them there. As she walked away, Marcus turned to Greg, who seemed rather shy, and asked if he had a few minutes to take a walk.

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Great, let’s go. But drop the ‘sir’ stuff, okay? It’s just Marcus.”

  “Sure, Marcus.”

  They headed off together and made it out to the empty trail with just a few minutes of daylight to spare. On the way Marcus explained what they were looking for; once there he divided the perimeter between them and they both got to work, searching for signs of trespass.

  Marcus walked along his section, eyes open for footprints, broken branches, any sort of disturbance to nature. He couldn’t find any definite signs of entry, but at least he confirmed that it was doable. The brush was thick, yes, but there were thinner patches of growth here and there where someone could’ve gotten through if they’d really wanted to.

  After that, he peered down the hill from various vantage points and finally spotted some large construction equipment about half a mile away, sitting idle amid a smattering of foundations and half-framed structures. A new housing development.

  Bingo.

  More than likely a place like that would hum with activity during the day but be silent and deserted after hours, as it was now. That would make it the perfect place for a killer to park his car and hike up here to the resort under cover of darkness.

  Marcus called over his young helper—who hadn’t been able to find any signs of entry either—and pointed out the sight. Greg agreed with his theory, and as they headed back toward the conference center in the gathering darkness, they discussed and debated it, trying to refine their scenario. When they reached the parking lot, they were about to part ways when Marcus’s cell phone rang.

  With a start, he asked Greg to stay put as he pulled it out and looked at the screen. Blocked. This had to be Ty. Police were already patched in to listen, but just in case that didn’t work, he reached into his shirt pocke
t, took out Detective Bryant’s card, and thrust it toward Greg. “Phone this number right now and make sure they’re aware of this call and are listening in, would you?”

  Greg asked no questions, but instead got right to it. As he began to dial, Marcus took a deep breath and answered his own phone with a quiet, brusque, “Hello?”

  “Marcus Stone?”

  “Yeah. Who’s this?”

  “Ty. Ty Kirkland. We met last night at the police station?”

  Marcus’s jaw clenched. He glanced at Greg, who handed back the card and put the phone to his ear.

  “I know who you are.” Unable to stop himself, Marcus blurted, “And if you ever go near Juliette Taylor again, I will personally see to it that—”

  “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I know I kind of crossed the line.”

  “Kind of?” A cluster of nearby guests glared their way, and Marcus realized he was shouting. Taking another deep breath, he gestured for Greg to follow him and then began walking as fast as possible toward his suite. “Kirkland, you went well over that line the minute you even thought about breaking into her room.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, Stone, but I had to find some way to reach you. When I was leaving the spa, I saw Ms. Taylor walking by so I, uh, borrowed a master key and followed her there. I figured she’d have your number, and she did.”

  Greg dropped back to talk on his phone, but Marcus continued on to his room, trying to stay focused on Ty. “You’ve got some nerve, Kirkland.”

  “Yeah, well, I was desperate, okay? And this is important.”

  Marcus blew out a breath. Calm down. He reached the door, unlocked it, and stepped inside, leaving it open for Greg to follow once he’d ended his own call.

  “Okay. Fine. Talk to me. Your note said you want to turn yourself in?” Marcus grabbed a blank pad and pen from the end table and carried them to the kitchen counter, where he stood and listened, pen poised at the ready.

  “Yeah. I do. I’ve been . . . involved with this stuff for a while now, but I’ve reached the point where I just want out. I’m ready to cut a deal. It’s just not worth it, man. I don’t want to do this anymore. I want out, and I need you to arrange it for me.”