Bougainvillea (15 page)

They used the motor.

Kit had planned to shrug off David's touch if he came near her. But he didn't.

Either he figured the truth was out…

Or he had his pride as well.

Not even Jen tried to speak to her. When they returned to the dock at Bougainvillea, Kit walked straight to the cottage, up the stairs, and locked the door to their bedroom before David could catch up. She showered, changed, and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

She had wanted to know the truth so badly.

And yet…

She should leave. Her mother was dead. Her father—yes! David was right on that point, at the least. Mark Delaney would always be her father. Her father was dead, too.

Even her cat was dead. And her marriage might be dead as well.

She needed to get the hell out of Bougainvillea.

She heard the doorknob twist, and then David's voice.

“Kit!”

“David, I'd really like to be alone for a while.”

“Alone is exactly what you don't need to be,” he called angrily.

“I don't want to talk right now.”

“Kit, we'll leave Bougainvillea.”

She surprised herself by catapulting out of the bed and to the door, flinging it open and confronting him. He was still in the pair of cutoffs he had sailed in.

He was muscled, sleek, and brown from his broad shoulders to his feet. His eyes were dark and intent; his hands rested upon his hips.

“You believe all that bullshit?”

“Is it true?”

“That your mother once had an affair with Seamus? I imagine it could be. That Kaitlin is his child—yes, I imagine that could be true, too. But did I have an affair with Kaitlin, was I ever thinking of becoming involved with her—no. It was no before I ever met you. Have I had affairs, yes, tons of them. Did I marry you because I thought you might be Seamus's daughter, heir to it all? No. I married you because I fell in love with you. I thought you felt that way about me.”

“I don't know what the hell I feel right now,” she responded angrily. It was a lie. She felt the urge to fling herself against him, cry, and pretend that none of this was real. To pretend that Bougainvillea was filled with fine people who had loved her mother, rued her death. That they had all been normal—and good.

But she couldn't allow herself to fall into his arms so easily. She needed time.

“Leave me alone for now, David. I mean it. Leave me alone.”

“Kit, I am not leaving!”

“Then I am!”

She brushed past him. He caught her arm, spinning her back angrily. She landed hard against his chest, and he held her there and tilted her head upward. He kissed her the way that only he could. With liquid fire and insinuation, passion and force. The kind of kiss that seduced, and made everything else disappear except the need to be closer and closer, make love, touch him, inside and out…

“No!” she exclaimed furiously, pushing away. “I need to be away—away from you!”

She ran down the stairs and out of the house, nearly tripping over Thor.

Once outside, she didn't know where she was going. And then she did. She went running far around the path, heading for Mary's place.

* * *

David swore as he stormed down the stairs.

He should never have come home. Never have brought Kit here. They should have bought a condo on the beach instead.

Hell, he should have quit Sea Life.

He leaned against the mantel in the living room, gritting his teeth, wondering where the hell she had gone. He began to worry.

Kaitlin had spat out a truth they had all suspected.

And so had Kit.

She suspected that her mother had been murdered.

And now, wherever she had gone…

Maybe she was learning too much.

He pushed away from the mantel, intent on finding her.

That night. Before she could discover anything else, and announce what she knew to the world.

* * *

Alicia answered the door, startled to see her.

“Didn't think you'd be back so soon. Guess it is dark out there now. I didn't realize how late it had gotten.” Alicia yawned. “Mary is sleeping, but you go right on in with her.”

“Thanks,” Kit told Alicia, and walked into Mary's room.

She took the old woman's hand in her own. Mary opened her eyes and smiled at her.

“You've come. You've come to say goodbye.”

Kit was startled to realize it was the truth. She loved David. She didn't want to leave him, and she didn't exactly intend to do so. But she was going to leave, with Jen, tomorrow. David could come to Chicago if he wanted. They could talk there.

He would come, she thought, if he really loved her.

“Mary, I am leaving,” she said softly. “But I'll come back. I wish you could help me. Marina was seeing someone. You knew who it was.”

Mary squeezed her hand. “Mark loves you. I know that you broke it off with Seamus when he married you. What I don't know is why you ever cheated on him again. Kaitlin hates you, seriously hates you, you know. She knows the baby is her half sister.”

A lump formed in Kit's throat. “Mary, did Kaitlin kill my mother?”

“Marina, Lenore is dangerous, too. She's afraid that her own boy will be left out.”

“It's all right, Mary.”

“I heard the screaming. I thought it was the parrots. You were crying out for help, and I knew it. David came. He was supposed to be away at school, but he came.”

Her heart froze. A sense of illness swept through her.

Suddenly, Mary's hand curled tightly around hers. “Josh…they were all there. If only…you could have been helped. If I had known. I thought it was the parrots…only later.” Mary suddenly looked really distressed. “You've got to go! Now. Tonight.”

Kit felt a chill invade her as never before. She tried to remain calm. “I'm going, Mary,” she said softly. “I'll be safe, I promise.”

She remained calm and easy as she kissed the old woman, and then slipped out, speaking lightly to Alicia in the living room of the cottage before hurrying out the door.

She realized she didn't have a cent on her. There was only one thing to do. Run to the Callahans' house, borrow some money, call the police and get away.

She knew there was nothing she could prove to the police. But it didn't matter. She just needed to get away from Bougainvillea—before she followed her mother's footsteps to a watery grave.

The compound lights were dim, but she realized that she would be well enough illuminated on the tile path
around the lagoon. She kept to the bushes, hiding in the shadows.

It seemed to take her forever to get around the little inlet. At last, she reached the foliage.

“Kit!”

David was out on the path, calling her name.

She hunched down into the foliage until he walked by. Then she spurted through the path.

Seconds later, she came to the little pet cemetery. In the dim light here, the markers seemed as eerie as death itself. There was the lump in the ground where poor Whitney had so recently been buried.

She fell dead still suddenly, aware that the bushes were moving to her side.

“Kit!”

Her name was being called. She knew the voice. It was Josh. She was startled by the overwhelming sense of fear that streaked through her like lightning.

What the hell was he doing in the bushes?

Her mind raced. Had he simply called her name? Or whispered it softly? She was afraid for him to find her here. Alone.

She inched slowly toward the farside of the burial area.

“Kit!” It seemed that Josh lunged out of the bushes, rushing for her. Shadows surrounded him. She couldn't see his face, and the terror remained with her. Panicking, she looked around and noted the spade he had so recently used to dig Whitney's grave. She grabbed it and clanged him on the head as he neared her. Regardless of the noise she made, she ran pell-mell down the
path toward the Callahan residence, leaping the gate like a professional vaulter.

A few minutes later, she reached the Callahan house and began pounding on the door. To her dismay, no one answered. “It's Kit!” she called. “Please, help me!”

“Kit?”

She turned around. Martin Callahan was coming up the walk, his keys in his hand.

“Help me,” she said frantically. “I need the police!”

“Of course,” he said, frowning. “We'll get into the house. Eli will be back shortly. He's a cop. He'll help.”

He opened the door and ushered her in, looking anxiously around the house as he closed and locked the door. He propelled her toward the dining room and pulled out a chair for her. “I'll get you a brandy. Then you can tell me what's happened.”

He came back a second later, offering her a snifter. “I don't need a drink,” she murmured.

“A good jolt will help you. Swallow it, now.”

What the hell? she thought. It couldn't hurt. She swallowed the brandy down, and was glad of the warming tingle that touched her throat. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “My mother was definitely murdered. And Mary knows a great deal that everyone ignores, assuming that she's senile.”

“Ah!” Martin said. “Well, it was always a sad, confused lot over there. Seamus was, in his younger years, quite a ladies' man. And then your mother came into the picture, and seduced everyone. You know, I believe she was actually evil.”

Kit frowned. She started to protest, but felt strange when she opened her mouth. “No, she wasn't evil. Just
wild and immature,” Kit managed to say at last. It felt as if she was slurring her words. “She saw someone that night.”

“Yes, well, she was always
seeing
someone.”

Kit licked her lips, feeling incredibly odd. “Um… where did Eli go?”

“He'll be back.”

Martin was just staring at her. She blinked, trying to keep her eyes open.

Martin smiled suddenly. “You wanted to know,” he said softly. “Well…now you do.”

“Know…what?”

“How your mother died.”

At first, his words didn't register, didn't really make sense. Then she knew. She had been drugged.

“You!” she whispered. And then, incredulous and confused, “Why?”

He didn't answer right away. He rose, coming over to her. He gripped her face, trying to study her eyes.

“No!” she screamed with the energy and fury she could muster. “No!”

“Yep, it's time.”

He pulled back the chair. She nearly fell but then he bent over, sweeping her into his arms.

She tried desperately to push away from him.

But he was strong, far stronger than she might have imagined. His left arm came around her. She still had some strength in her limbs. She scratched and clawed and fought desperately, her hands flailing ridiculously.

Martin Callahan! It was impossible. Why?

“I could have left you alone, except…you were so
determined. I'm so sorry. Quit struggling. It will be easier.”

She couldn't quit struggling. He meant to kill her. But the sickly sweet sensation filling her limbs until they were all but useless caused her head to spin as well.

“Why?” she tried to gasp out.

“Why?” he said curtly. “The bitch was sleeping with my son. Seducing a seventeen-year-old boy. She deserved to die, not run off and have a happy life with Mark.”

“I…I would have never found out,” she whispered.

“Yes, eventually, Mary would have given you names. I'm afraid I can't take any more chances with Mary, either.”

“Eli…Shelley…will be back.”

“Oh, no, they won't. Your husband called in a panic. They're all searching for you.”

She was about to lose consciousness. Kit held her breath, and pretended to go entirely limp.

He carried her from the house.

She continued to fight inwardly, a truly desperate battle to remain conscious.

* * *

David would never know exactly why such a deep sense of panic had filled him.

Well, hell, why not? Far too much was out in the open.

Once he had ascertained she wasn't at the main house with Jen, he ran to Mary's cabin. Lenore called over to the Callahan house while Jen and Eli headed out together, ready to search the estate with flashlights while
he went to Mary's. But when he reached the old woman's cottage, Alicia told him that Kit had already left.

David headed back to the cottage for a flashlight. Thor started barking, trying to follow him when he was stepping out. He hesitated. Thor cocked his head expectantly at David, wagged his tail, and whined.

“Oh, all right. Come on!”

With Thor on his heels, he raced out, heading first toward the pet cemetery, thinking that might be a place she would go to find solitude and nurse her wounds. There, by Whitney's grave. He heard a rustling in the brush, even before he got the light on.

“Kit? Who the hell is there?” he demanded.

He heard a moaning. Thor rushed on through the foliage and started barking. David followed the sound and came upon Josh, trying to sit up in the bushes.

“What happened?” David demanded tersely, hunkering down beside him.

“She creamed me!”

“Kit?”

“She's scared, really scared. I was just trying to talk to her, and she walloped me with the shovel.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Where's Jen?”

“Running around lost somewhere.”

David set a hand on his shoulder. “I've got to keep looking for Kit, Josh. Can you make it to the house?”

“Hell, yes. Go!” Josh looked at David, shaking his head. “It's happening again—go!”

David did. He ran through the bushes, thinking she
might have headed for the Callahan property. Except that Lenore had called over there.

He leaped the gate and was amazed to realize that Thor did so behind him. He saw the house ahead of him. It was dark. He ran up the steps and banged at the door. No answer.