"Sorry to interrupt," he said. "I need to speak to you right away."
"Okay. Is something wrong?"
"Yes." He motioned for her to follow him.
"I'll talk to you later, Susan," Lizzie said to the woman, then followed him back to the lobby. "What's going on, Dante?"
"You need to see this." He headed up the stairs with her right on his heels.
"Is there something wrong with your room?" she asked.
"Not my room. Mark Langley's room." When they got to the third floor, he led her to the open door. "I saw a woman come out of this room a few minutes ago. She left the door ajar. I was going to shut it or let Mark know it was open, and then I saw this."
Lizzie stepped into the room and gasped, her gaze darting from the upturned drawers to the ripped pillows on the bed, the slashed fabric on the recliner, and the threatening words on the wall. "Oh, my God," she murmured, putting a hand to her mouth in shock. "Who did this?"
"A woman with red hair. I saw her come out of the room. She gave me an odd look and then rushed down the stairs."
Lizzie met his gaze. "There was a woman matching that description who came by last week. She was looking for Mark. I told him she'd left him a message. I put it under his door.”
He walked over to the desk and saw a piece of paper with a few handwritten scrawled lines: You should have protected my sister and not your wife. You're going to keep paying until I tell you it's time to stop.
"Sounds like blackmail," he muttered.
Lizzie read the note over his shoulder. "It does sound like that."
"Mark must have decided to stop paying." His gaze swept the room. "She left him a bigger message."
"I have to call Adam." Lizzie pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Can you wait here while I do that? He might want to ask you what you saw."
"Of course."
She got in touch with Adam fairly quickly and after a brief conversation, she ended the call, saying, "He's five minutes away. He said not to touch anything." Lizzie looked around the scene with pain in her eyes. "She really destroyed this room. She must have taken a knife or scissors to that recliner. It was donated to me by my dad. My mom said he should give it up because he was spending too much time in it. So, he drove it up here, thinking one of my guests would like it. Everything in this room was chosen with love." She wiped her eyes. "It's silly to be so personally attached."
"It's not silly, and I'm sorry." For Lizzie, this wasn't just an inn. It was truly her home, a home that had just been ripped apart.
"I wonder how she got in. It's easy enough to get into the building but not the rooms. They're all coded to the keycard."
"Maybe you should call Mark Langley."
"Good idea." She looked through her phone, then punched in a number. "It's going to voicemail," she said a moment later. "Mr. Langley, this is Lizzie Cole. There's been an incident at the inn with your room. Please call me as soon as you can. It's urgent."
As she finished her message, he walked around, careful not to disturb anything. The woman hadn't just used a knife or scissors on the recliner; she'd cut up Mark's clothes and slashed the sheets and pillows. There was a personal vindictiveness to everything he saw, a burning hatred, and it was very unsettling.
"I should have stopped her," he muttered. "I didn't know what she'd done."
"How could you know? And why would you stop her? She could have just been visiting Mark."
"Mark's car was scratched yesterday. He said it was probably kids, but I think it was her. I know they had an argument several days ago."
"What about?"
"No idea."
"Keira has been suspicious about him from the beginning. I thought she was being overprotective of her mom. She's been taking care of her for so long, she worries about everything, but her instinct might have been right."
"I think it was." He needed to give Keira a heads-up about what had happened here. But before he could pull out his phone, Adam arrived.
Since both he and Lizzie had seen the red-haired woman, they came up with a good description between them. When he was done answering Adam's questions, he headed downstairs, jumped into his car, and went looking for Keira. He wasn't going to leave yet another text message or voicemail. He was going to find her and talk to her.
Her car wasn't at her shop, and there were no lights on in the building, so he went to her house. Adam would probably be close behind him, just in case Langley was with Ruth Blake, but he didn't want to waste another minute before he filled Keira in. He couldn't help thinking that he now had a very good reason for getting in touch with her. Unfortunately, he was bringing nothing but more bad news.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Keira sighed when she opened the door to find Dante on the porch. She'd just gotten home and had hoped not to have a conversation with him tonight. "I know I owe you a text. It's been really busy. I'm not ignoring you."
"Yes, you are," he said bluntly. "And you do owe me a text, but that's not why I'm here."
She looked at him in surprise. "Why are you here then?"
"Mark's room was vandalized at the inn. It was completely trashed, with threatening words written on the wall: YOU WILL PAY. Mark's clothes were shredded. It's bad, Keira."
Her eyes widened, her stomach churning at his words. "That's crazy. You think it was Mandy?"
"I know it was. I saw her leave his room. Where's your mom?"
"She's not here. She left me a text saying she and Mark went for a drive."
"You should call her, ask her to come home now, but don't tell her why."
She frowned and waved him into the house. Then she walked over to the table in the entry to get her phone. "I don't know that she'll come home if I don't say why."
"You can't tip her off."
"Why not?"
"Because we don't know what's happening, and if she's with Mark, it would just be better if he didn't know what was going on until the police are talking to him."
"The police are involved?"
"Yes. Lizzie called Adam. She also called Mark, but he didn't answer. I know Adam is going to look for Mark, but if your mother is with him, and you can get him to bring her home, then we can get her here before we get into anything else."
"You're scaring me a little."
"Sorry. I don't think your mom is in danger. The crazy woman is clearly after Mark."
"And we need to know why," she said with new determination in her voice. She called her mom. For a moment, she thought it was going to voicemail, but then her mom's voice came across the line.
"Hi, Keira. What's up?" her mom asked, a light note in her voice. Nothing sounded wrong. That was a good sign.
"I was wondering if you're almost home. I really need to talk to you."
"Is something wrong?"
"Not wrong, just concerning. I know you're out with Mark, but I have to speak to you. It's important."
"What's this about, honey?"
She searched wildly for a reason that might make sense. As her gaze lit on Dante's attractive face, she had her answer. "It's about Dante. He's leaving sooner than I thought, and I need your advice."
"Okay, well, we were heading back anyway. We picked up a pizza if you're hungry. Mark was hoping you might be around."
"Great. He's welcome to come in and stay for dinner. I just need a few minutes with you alone, if he doesn't mind."
"Of course not, and I'm glad that will work out. I've wanted us all to sit down together."
"See you soon." She looked at Dante. "Sorry I mentioned you. I needed an excuse."
"I figured."
"They're on their way back from picking up a pizza. They'll be here soon."
"Good. I'm going to stay."
She nodded. Their eyes met, their gazes clinging together, unspoken words and emotions flowing between them.
"Why were you avoiding me today?" he asked.
She sucked in a quick breath. She wanted to evade the question, but he wasn't going to let her get awa
y with that, so she decided to be honest. "I think it might be better if we didn't see each other anymore."
"We had a good time last night. We have a good time every time we're together."
"But our time is ending, and frankly, I'm not handling it very well."
His gaze softened. "Keira, I know this is difficult."
"It is, but it shouldn't be. I went into this knowing it was a short-term thing, a summer fling—fun, easy, and forgettable."
"I never thought it was going to be forgettable."
"Well, it turns out it won't be, at least not for me. I got too emotionally involved, and I know myself, Dante. It's not going to get easier the more time we spend together. We should just smile and wish each other well."
A cloud of dark shadows filled his gaze. "I'm here until Saturday. Do you really want to waste the time we have left?"
"I do and I don't. I've been conflicted all day, which is why I didn't text you back. But now that you're standing in front of me, I know the answer."
He met her gaze and his lips tightened. "And the answer is we're done."
"Yes. I had a good time with you. The only regret I have is that we don't have more time. But I'm really glad I sat down at your table and thought you were my date."
"Me, too. I wish you'd change your mind."
"I know, but it wouldn't be the same. The end would just be looming over us."
She could see he wanted to argue. Dante was the kind of man who got what he wanted. But a car pulled up out front. Her mother and Mark had arrived.
She opened the front door as they made their way into the house with two large pizza boxes and a bottle of wine. Her mother looked at Dante in surprise.
"I didn't know you were here, Dante."
"I just arrived," he said.
"I hope you'll stay for pizza," Mark said, as they all walked toward the kitchen. "We got plenty."
When they entered the kitchen, Mark set down the pizzas and offered to open the wine.
"That sounds good," her mother told Mark. "I know Keira needs to speak to me for a few minutes. You and Dante can entertain each other while we're gone."
"No need for that," she said. "We all need to talk.”
Her mother gave her a confused look. "About what?"
"Let's sit down at the table." She pulled out a chair and sat down as the others did the same.
"This isn't about Dante, is it?" her mother asked.
"No, it's about Mark," she replied, her gaze moving from her mom to Mark.
He looked straight back at her. "All right," he said. "I'm happy to talk about whatever you want to discuss."
"Well, I'm not," her mom said with a look of annoyance on her face. "Keira. I told you I would talk to Mark on my own."
"Have you?" she challenged.
"Not yet, but I will."
"Well, time has run out. Dante, why don't you tell Mark what happened at the inn?"
"At the inn?" Mark echoed.
"Your room was vandalized tonight," Dante said. "Lizzie left you a message. The police also want to talk to you. Didn't you get those calls?"
"I saw a couple of voicemails, but I was driving. I didn't have time to listen to them. What happened to my room?"
"I ran into the woman you were arguing with a few days ago in the hallway outside your room. She gave me an odd look and then ran down the stairs. I noticed your door was still ajar, so I went over to let you know. When I opened the door, I realized the room had been trashed. There was a threatening message on the wall that said: YOU WILL PAY. I got Lizzie. She called her brother, who is a police detective, and I'm sure they're both trying to reach you."
Mark had paled during Dante's explanation. He pulled out his phone. "Yes, I have several voicemails. I should listen to them."
"Before you do that, you need to tell us who this woman is and why she's threatening you," Keira said.
"Keira," her mother interrupted. "This is Mark's business, not ours."
"This woman could be dangerous, Mom. You're spending time with Mark, and he's someone's target. I don't want you to get hurt. Mark needs to decide if he wants to see you and tell us the truth, or if he wants to leave and take care of his own business. But I'm not going to stand by and do nothing." She blew out a breath, knowing she'd probably overstepped, too, but she didn't care.
"Keira is right," Mark said, turning to her mother. "I believed I could handle the situation, Ruth, like I've done in the past, but Mandy is in a bad place. I thought she left town yesterday. She promised me she was leaving, but apparently that didn't happen."
"When did she promise?" Dante asked. "Was it after she scratched your car? We both know that's who did it."
"Yes, it was after that," Mark admitted. "I met with Mandy, and I told her that the police were getting involved, that she was captured on the security camera, and that I would only stop her from being charged if she left town. She said she would go."
"Who is this woman?" Keira asked. "What does she want you to pay for?"
"A long time ago, fifteen years now, there was a fire at my home. I was out of town with my wife and son. But our nanny, Gretchen, was in the house, and she died in the fire. She was Mandy's sister."
"Why does Mandy blame you for that if you weren't even there?" Dante asked.
"It's a long story."
"It's time to tell it," Keira said.
Mark's lips tightened, but then he gave a short nod. "All right. I will tell you the story. I didn't know until months after the fire that my wife had left our vacation rental and gone back to the house to talk to Gretchen. She did it in the middle of the night, and she was back before the police called early the next morning."
Her pulse leapt at his response. "Your wife set the fire?"
"I need to back up," Mark said. "You have to understand the context of what was going on."
"Take your time," her mother encouraged.
He gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ruth. My wife, Valerie, had mental health issues, some of which she took medication for. But when she would go off the meds, she would become unbalanced, paranoid, and unpredictable. I knew things were getting rocky with her, which is why I suggested a weekend away at the beach. We went to Malibu. It was less than an hour away from our house, but she loved the water, and I thought it would calm her down. I wanted us to reconnect as a family. When she was off her meds, she barely paid attention to our son, Richard. I knew that he was feeling neglected."
Mark cleared his throat. "That night," he continued, "Valerie started a fight with me. She accused me of having an affair with Gretchen, which was not true. I was not involved with the nanny, and I told Valerie that several times. She said she was so angry she was going to sleep in the extra bedroom. I didn't question it. I was relieved to have a break. I didn't want to fight with her, and I especially didn't want to do it in front of Richard. But sometime that night, after I went to bed, she took the car and drove back to the house. She later told me that she woke Gretchen up and made her come downstairs. Gretchen also denied anything was going on, and she apparently went back up the stairs while Valerie decided to drink and smoke cigarettes in the living room. At some point, Valerie left the house, but she also left her cigarette in the couch and it started the fire. There was a bottle of alcohol on the cushions and that blew up the fire. The police thought that Gretchen had been drinking and smoking before she went upstairs and that she had no idea what happened. She died in her bed."
"That's awful," her mother said, putting a comforting hand on Mark's arm.
"You said you didn't find this out for months," Keira interrupted, not wanting her mother to get Mark off track. "How is that possible?"
"Valerie was asleep in the guest room when I got the call about the fire," he replied. "I woke her up. She was disoriented. I dropped her and Richard off with Valerie's sister when I went to the house and spoke to the police. Later that day, when I got back to my sister-in-law's house, she said that Valerie was having a breakdown. I got her to the
hospital, where she was admitted. I think she had tremendous guilt, and it was eating her up inside, so she couldn't speak. She couldn't do anything. She was basically catatonic. She was in a psychiatric facility for eight months before she finally started to come back to life. And then she started telling me stories about the fire. I honestly didn't know if they were true or not. I just knew that I had to protect my son. I divorced Valerie, and I took Richard to San Francisco. To this day, he blames me for taking him away from his mother and also for abandoning her when she was sick. But I didn't do that. I paid for her to get help for ten years after that. I wanted her to get better, but I couldn't have her around Richard unless she was stable."
"That makes sense," her mom said. "You had to protect your child."
"Why didn't you go to the police?" she asked. "Why didn't you tell them what Valerie did?"
His eyes turned bleak. "It had been almost a year since it happened, and I didn't even know if Valerie was telling me the truth. Or if she'd made up another story in her head."
"There was no proof that she went to the house that night?" Dante asked.
"None. We didn't have a security camera. None of our neighbors did, either. It was the middle of the night. I read the police report. No one came forward saying they'd seen anything. There was also no camera at the house in Malibu where we were staying. I suppose there might have been some way the police could have checked traffic cameras to see if our car was caught on any, but I didn't want to put Valerie or my son through an investigation that wouldn't change anything. Maybe that was wrong. But I just wanted to take Richard away from it all."
"Let's get back to Mandy," Dante interjected. "When did she find out that your wife set the fire? And why didn't she go to the police?"
"Mandy found out six years ago. My wife was sick, dying from cancer. She decided it was time to pay for her sins, so she told Mandy. She wanted to cleanse her soul."
"And then Mandy started blackmailing you," Keira guessed.
If We Never Met Page 23