Silenced in Sequins

  Kelly didn’t know what woke her in the morning. A noise from a passing truck on Main Street? Was someone breaking into her apartment? Her heart seized. Was someone in the apartment? She bolted upright and listened.

  Nothing.

  An intruder could be lying in wait. Or she could be overreacting, and considering the past few days, she had reason to overreact.

  She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and pushed off the covers. The morning chill sent a shiver down her body. Standing, she looked around for Howard. He was nowhere in sight. She tiptoed out of the bedroom. The hardwood floor was cold. She should have put on her slippers, but the adrenaline was pumping through her, and she couldn’t think of anything but the intruder.

  She should have grabbed something to use as a weapon. On second thought, there wasn’t much available to use.

  She peered around the corner to the living room.

  No one.

  She exhaled a relieved breath. There was no one in her apartment except for her jerk of a cat.

  He was doing what reminded Kelly of a yoga cobra stretch on top of the dining table. Her gaze lowered, and she spotted, on the floor, the container of spray cleaner she’d been using on the hutch.

  “You couldn’t resist, could you?” She marched to the dining area and swiped up the cleaner, setting it back on the table.

  “Now that I’m up, I guess you’re expecting breakfast.”

  Howard meowed, leaped off the table, and trotted to the kitchen.

  “Maybe I’ll get you one of those cat food-dispensing thingies for Christmas.” Following him into the kitchen, she glanced at the wall clock. She was up thirty minutes earlier than she’d set her alarm for. The option to go back to bed seemed silly. She was wide awake, and it was doubtful she’d fall back to sleep.

  She filled Howard’s bowl and then poured herself a glass of orange juice. The mindless tasks allowed her brain to replay yet again her conversation with Patrice. She hoped Patrice would go to the police and tell them her suspicions, even though she had no evidence. She guessed the police wouldn’t take her suspicions seriously. No, they’d probably view what she said as conjecture and sour grapes since her married boyfriend had dumped and then fired her after she was arrested.

  The police wanted proof. Evidence. Something they could take into court and use to say, without a hint of doubt, that the accused was guilty.

  Like the blood-speckled knife found in Wendy’s car.

  Talk about a piece of evidence. Wolman was probably giddy with excitement when it was discovered. She had her evidence, motive, and suspect. All nice and tidy.

  Nice and tidy.

  Except for Patrice and her suspicion that Yvonne had planted the drugs in her luggage.

  Patrice wasn’t the only cast member at the airport. All of the ladies were, and so were other LIL crew members. It was possible Yvonne wasn’t involved.

  Kelly drained the last of her orange juice and set the glass in the sink, while Howard brushed by her on his way into the living room. With his tummy full, he’d settle down for a nap on the sofa for a few hours. Oh, the life of a cat.

  While her little buddy dozed off, she padded into the bathroom for a shower. After toweling off, she dressed in something practical and warm, yet cute. After ten minutes of staring at her clothes, Kelly selected a pair of black leggings, a tunic-length, seed-stitch gray sweater, and a pair of tall, flat boots.

  Downstairs, she unlocked the front door of the boutique and opened the cash register. Footsteps approached from the staff room. She looked up from the register drawer.

  “Good morning, Kelly.” Pepper looked well-rested and healthier than she had in days. Her hair was blown out, and she’d added color to her face and donned her newest obsession—flat, thigh-high suede boots.

  Kelly closed the register drawer and tucked the bank bag away. “Before customers arrive, I want to run something by you. I’ve made a lot of changes to the business since I took over, and there’s one more I’d like to make.”

  “Oh?” Pepper approached the sales counter with apprehension. “What do you want to change now?”

  “Being open on Sundays. I think after Christmas we should close on Sundays at least until April or May. Seven days a week is a lot, and I don’t expect there’ll be much traffic on Sundays during the cold, wintry months. Do you?” Retail ebbed and flowed, especially businesses that relied heavily on seasonal traffic. Lucky Cove’s population swelled in the warm weather months.

  Pepper didn’t reply right away. She seemed to consider her answer. She’d had more experience in the boutique and knew better than anyone if it was really worth being open seven days a week. “No, I suppose not.”

  “Great.” Kelly was relieved Pepper was on board. They’d all been working so hard, and being open seven days a week was a strain for her and her two part-time employees. She was also still concerned with Pepper’s health. She felt responsible for Pepper’s recent bout with a nasty cold because she’d relied too much on the older woman. Sundays off would be a good thing for all of them. When spring arrived, maybe she could afford to hire a teenager for a few hours a week.

  Kelly might have to consider being closed one day during the weekday if business slowed down any more after the holidays.

  “It’ll be nice to stay snuggled inside on a Sunday.” Pepper patted Kelly’s hand. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee.”

  The boutique was quiet for the first part of the morning, allowing Kelly to submit her article to Budget Chic and Pepper to continue decorating. A handful of customers came in, and they did some serious shopping. Each one of the ladies appeared to be on a mission. Kelly assisted them while she let Pepper continue to focus on adding holiday cheer to the shop.

  “Thank you, and have a great day.” Kelly handed a shopping bag to a customer, who smiled and then walked away. Kelly’s cell phone rang. She picked it up from the counter and swiped it on. “Hi, Patrice.”

  “I’ve decided to confront Yvonne. The more I think about it, the more certain I am she framed me.”

  “Whoa! Slow down. You were supposed to go to the police.”

  “I will. After she tells me the truth.”

  “That’s not a good idea.” Kelly moved out from behind the counter.

  Patrice getting into Yvonne’s face with accusations wasn’t a good idea if Yvonne was indeed responsible for setting Patrice up and killing Diana.

  “Where are you? Let’s meet and discuss this.”

  “I’ve added more greenery to the mantels.” Pepper entered the room but stopped and gave Kelly a questioning look.

  “No time to meet. I’m almost at Yvonne’s house. I’ll call you later.”

  “No, no, no.”

  The line went silent.

  “Shoot.” She swiped the phone off. “Pepper, can you cover for me?” She didn’t wait for a reply as she raced to the staff room. She heard Pepper call out, but there was no time to explain. She had a terrible feeling about Patrice going one-on-one with Yvonne. Passing through the staff room, she grabbed her coat and tote bag.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kelly struggled to maintain the speed limit over to Yvonne’s house. She didn’t want to be stopped for speeding, nor did she want to get into an accident, but when she arrived at her destination, she pressed her foot hard on the gas pedal and sped into the driveway.

  She spotted a black Mercedes and a late-model sedan. She shut off the ignition, but before stepping out of her Jeep, she left a voice mail for Gabe, a quick summary of what was going on.

  Kelly made her way to the front door and pressed the bell. She waited for the housekeeper and was surprised to see Hugh open the door.

  “This is an unexpected pleasure,” he smiled.

  “What are you doing here?” She did a quick glance over her shoulder. The Mercedes was his. She remembered seeing it pu
ll away from her boutique when he’d stopped in the other day.

  “Yvonne and I are having a working lunch.” He opened the door wider. “Come on in. We have plenty.”

  Kelly entered the foyer. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I’d like to speak with Yvonne. It’s important. Is Patrice here?” If the Mercedes belonged to Hugh, then the other car must be Patrice’s.

  “Follow me.” Hugh led her to the dining room but didn’t answer her question.

  As spacious as the living room, the dining room had a long, formal table set for two beneath a breathtaking chandelier. On the wall opposite the entry stood a massive hutch that made her granny’s look as if it belonged in a dollhouse.

  “We’re making do with paper plates. Yvonne is leaving for California tonight, so her staff is off.”

  Yvonne looked up from the file folder open next to her plate and water glass. “Another unexpected visit?”

  “I apologize for showing up uninvited. Is Patrice here? She called me to tell me she was on her way over here. She’s upset.” Kelly took a moment and allowed herself to be awestruck by the grandness around them, from the chandelier to the drapery to the crystal glass Yvonne took a sip from.

  “Why on earth would Patrice be upset?” Hugh hadn’t returned to his place setting at the table. He stood beside Kelly.

  “Yvonne, can I talk to you in private?” Kelly asked. Maybe the other car outside wasn’t Patrice’s.

  “Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of Hugh. Go on, say it.” Yvonne set her glass down.

  Kelly glanced at Hugh and then back at Yvonne. “Awkward” would be an understatement. But Yvonne had insisted. “Did you set up Patrice to be arrested for drug possession because she was having an affair with your husband?”

  “How dare you!” The well-bred socialite’s face reddened, and her nostrils flared. She leaned forward and bared her teeth at Kelly. “Get out!” She raised her hand and pointed for emphasis.

  Kelly stood her ground. “Patrice believes you framed her, and somehow Diana found out about it.”

  “This is insane. You and Patrice!” Yvonne leaped to her feet. “Get out of my house!”

  “Patrice will tell the police everything.”

  Yvonne dropped back into the chair. She rested an elbow on the chair’s arm and held her head. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.” She lifted her head. Her green eyes were blank with emotion, like her voice. “The little tart was seeing my husband. There was no way I would let her destroy my marriage. I would not end up like Diana, pitiful and broke.”

  Kelly stepped forward. “Because of what you did, Patrice was arrested. She has a criminal conviction on her record. You ruined her life.”

  “What do you think she was doing to me? Besides, it was her first offense. And the amount of cocaine wasn’t a lot. I made sure so she wouldn’t get jail time.”

  “Diana found out?” Hugh had taken a step forward, which kept him beside Kelly.

  Yvonne nodded. “Yes, she did. Somehow, she put it all together and rallied for Patrice. Got her a lawyer and into drug counseling to appease the judge. It wasn’t long before she let me know she knew. She wanted me to get her back on the show.”

  “Why did you go to her house the night she was killed?” Hugh asked.

  “To tell her she was wrecking her chances of getting back on the show. Diana was alive when I left. Now I think you should go, Miss Quinn. And don’t think for one minute you can go to the police. I’ll deny everything I’ve said,” Yvonne said.

  Kelly glanced at Hugh.

  “Don’t expect him to back you up, Miss Quinn.” Yvonne’s voice was confident.

  “Fine, I’ll leave, but I want to know why you tampered with Summer’s brake lines.” Kelly would figure out a way to get Detective Wolman to believe her when she recounted her conversation with Yvonne. She might have to ask her uncle for help since he was buddy-buddy with the police chief.

  “I didn’t. Do you really think I’m mechanical?” Yvonne asked.

  Kelly thought about it for a moment. Yvonne wasn’t mechanical, and she guessed the socialite wasn’t tech savvy enough to spoof a text message either, but she could have hired someone to do those things. Kelly’s gaze dropped from Yvonne to the table. Chicken noodle stir fry?

  “Is that Thai?”

  Yvonne scoffed. “What? Are you hungry?”

  “No. Not at all. You like Thai, Yvonne?”

  “Not particularly. Hugh picked up lunch on his way over.”

  “Our meal isn’t important.” Hugh ran his fingers through his hair.

  Kelly’s spidey senses tingled. “I think it is. You like spicy food. The night of my uncle’s party, you wanted a certain appetizer. It was spicy.”

  “There’s no law against liking spicy food. Look, Kelly, I get that you don’t want to be on the show.” Hugh’s gaze darted from her to Yvonne and back to her. “I had no idea you’d become obsessed with the show or us.”

  “When I got the text from Liv to pick up dinner, I should have known it wasn’t from her because she doesn’t like Thai food. She’s never liked spicy food. But you do. I bet you know how to spoof a text message.”

  “Hugh, what is she talking about?” Yvonne asked.

  “Nothing I can’t handle.” A slow grin crept onto Hugh’s face, and it made Kelly’s stomach roll.

  “It was you!” Kelly pointed at Hugh. “You caused Summer’s accident, left the threatening note for me, and then lured me to a dark parking lot.

  “Talk about an early Christmas present.” He grinned before turning his attention back to Yvonne. He stalked toward Yvonne. “Who knew you had it in you to be so ruthless? I have a whole new level of appreciation for you, Yvonne. I promise, after you’re gone, I’ll still appreciate you.”

  Yvonne’s eyes widened with confusion. “Gone? What are you talking about?”

  “He’s going to kill us.” Kelly’s pulse raced, and her temples throbbed. All along, it had been Hugh. Had he used the ruse of wanting her on the show because he wanted to keep tabs on her? Had he been worried she’d figure out he was the one who killed Diana and tried to kill Summer? “You killed Diana and framed Wendy.”

  “Hugh, tell her she’s wrong. You couldn’t have killed Diana. Tell her.” Yvonne’s voice cracked, her confidence gone, as Hugh loomed over her.

  “I didn’t have a choice. Like you, she knew one of my secrets, and if she told my wife, everything I’ve worked for would be gone. In an instant.” He snapped his fingers, and Yvonne flinched. “You, of all people, should understand how it feels to have your whole life hanging by a thread.”

  “What did Diana have on you?” Kelly asked.

  Hugh tilted his head to look at Kelly. “Diana knew about my affair with Beryl.”

  “Diana’s stepdaughter?” Kelly shouldn’t have been, but she was more than sickened by the man. He had no morals, no scruples, and no conscience.

  “Diana was bleeding me dry. Then Tracy was tightening the purse strings like I’m a child, and Diana wanted more money. More! I had to stop the blackmailing.”

  “You killed her over an affair?” Yvonne asked.

  “You know what Tracy’s like!” He pulled back from Yvonne’s chair. “If she found out I was sleeping with a cast member or even a stupid stepdaughter, she’d kick me out. For someone who makes her living from reality television, she has morals. Besides, the murder and Summer’s accident raised the profile of the show. We’re heading into the new season with a guaranteed ratings bonanza.”

  Yvonne shot up from her chair. “Hugh! Do you hear yourself? How pathetic are you?”

  Hugh’s face darkened, and his hand came up; he slapped Yvonne. Hard. Her body crumpled and landed on the floor.

  Kelly screamed and turned to run out of the room, but Hugh lunged forward and grabbed her tote bag, yanking it toward hi
m.

  She yelped as the straps slid down her arm and her bag fell away. She bolted out of the dining room and ran across the marble floor toward the door. She reached out for the knob and grasped it. Her fingers twisted the knob, but before she could open the door, Hugh grabbed her from behind and spun her around fast. He seemed to have stretched to over seven feet tall, the way he towered over her now, and his angry gaze bore into her.

  “Don’t fight. You’re gonna lose.”

  “We’ll see about that.” She lifted a knee and shoved it into Hugh’s groin. He folded forward, sucking in a deep breath, and his grip loosened on her, giving her a chance to break free.

  She started around him. Where she was going she didn’t know. Where was the kitchen? The back door? There were patio doors in the living room. Making a split-second decision to set off running for the living room, she started off, but Hugh grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back against his chest.

  His arm wrapped around her throat and pressed hard, forcing her to gasp for air. Her eyes watered, her vision blurred, and air was in short supply. Her eyelids closed, and her body went limp as everything went dark.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kelly’s eyes opened with a start. Where was she? Wherever she was, she was cold. She shivered. Her gaze darted to the right and then to the left. All she saw was snow and a white railing. Upward was a gloomy sky. Another violent shiver zapped through her body.

  Where am I?

  Yvonne’s house. She was talking to Yvonne and Hugh . . .

  Hugh!

  Kelly bolted upright. There he was, dropping Yvonne onto the deck.

  The deck. The railing.

  They were on the widow’s walk.

  “Wha . . . Wha . . .” The words were difficult to get out. Her throat and neck hurt. Then the memory seized her. Hugh had had her in a choke hold and squeezed her neck until she was unconscious. Instinctively, her hand lifted to her neck. Her fingers were frozen, almost numb. “What are you doing?”