Thrilled To Death (19 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Apodaca

BOOK: Thrilled To Death
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“Gabe and I are on our way to the campground to check on Shane's assistant, Michelle. She seemed really scared earlier today.”
“Why didn't you call the police to check on her? Damn it, Shaw, this could be dangerous.”
I winced and pulled the phone an inch from my ear. “We're just checking. And I did call the police—I called you.”
“Is Pulizzi armed?”
I had seen Gabe unlock his glove box and strap his gun to the small of his back, then add a long-sleeved shirt over that. I was pretty sure he had a permit to carry. “Yeah.”
“Be careful and call me as soon as you check on her.”
“All right.”
“And Shaw.”
Gabe was turning into the campground. I looked around, half expecting to see Fletch running out of the row of little cabins. “What?”
“Let Pulizzi go in first.” He hung up.
Men.
I pushed the button to end the call. “It's that cabin.” I pointed to the one that Michelle was staying in. Gabe parked the truck, and we got out.
Gabe stopped a few feet back from the door. “Sam—”
“I know,” I said with a sigh. “Let you go in first.”
He cracked a smile. “Vance?”
“Men. You're all alike.”
Gabe stilled in the peculiar way of his. It was like his body stopped moving but all kinds of powerful energy hummed below the surface. “Vance wants you because he can't have you. I want you because you are a strong, sexy, and scary woman who isn't afraid to think for herself. Vance and I are not alike.” He turned away, then looked back over his shoulder. “Stay to the side of the door until I clear the cabin.” He knocked.
I moved to the side of the door on some kind of automatic pilot. Then I stared at Gabe's hard profile as he watched the door with his head slightly cocked. He was listening.
I tried to push Gabe's words away and listen too.
But
strong, sexy, and scary
played over in my head. What did that mean?
Gabe looked over at me. “Hear anything inside?”
I shook my head. I didn't hear anything but my thoughts.
He reached out and slowly turned the knob. It was unlocked. “Stay there.” He whispered the warning. He reached behind his back and took out his gun. Then he eased the door forward and went into the room.
I heard him moving around while my heart pounded out a worried beat. How long did I stand there? It felt like forever.
“Sam.”
I knew that tone in Gabe's voice. Something was wrong. I sucked in a deep breath of air and went around the door frame into the room.
Michelle was splayed on her back over the top of the bed. Her slack face seemed to sink back into the pool of platinum blond hair. “Is she breathing?”
“Yes. Call 911.”
I pulled my cell phone out. “Vance said to—”
“911, Sam. Now.”
I turned away and dialed. I gave the 911 operator all the information. When she told me to stay on the line, I told her I had another call to make and hung up.
Probably that was stupid.
I turned around and froze. Gabe was doing CPR. “I thought she was breathing!” Hysteria built up below my breastbone.
He ignored me and worked on forcing air into her lungs.
I lifted my hand clutching the cell phone and punched in Vance's number.
He answered, “Vance.”
“It's Sam,” I said, my mouth full of words I was desperate to get out. “We're in Michelle's cabin. She's unconscious. Gabe's doing CPR.”
“Did you call for paramedics, Shaw?”
“911.” I choked on the word as I watched. I wanted her to be okay. Had Fletch done this? But how?
“I'm on my way. Don't touch anything other than what's necessary to help the woman.”
The next few minutes passed in a blur. The paramedics and cops arrived and pushed us out of the way. Vance arrived just as the ambulance was loading Michelle in. He had a quick word with the crew, then the ambulance screamed away, blaring lights and sirens.
18
G
abe and I stood outside the little cabin at the edge of the campground. We were both quiet, trying to figure out how Michelle had become unconscious. Vance strode up to us and said, “They think Michelle has a good chance.”
I was thankful for that. But what happened to her?
Gabe said, “I didn't see any bottles of alcohol or any pills. No drug paraphernalia. Nothing that would indicate she was a user who overdosed.”
Vance made a note in his little pocket-size notebook. “We'll do a search.”
I hated what I was thinking. “Do you think Fletch tried to kill her?”
Vance looked at me. “Do you? You know him.”
I shook my head vigorously. “Not this side of him. I never would have thought he'd kill. He just seemed like a goofy comedy magician who adopted Grandpa and desperately wanted his father's approval.” But it was that very desperation that finally made me see him as a possible killer. “I just never realized how desperate, I guess.”
Gabe reached over and took my hand.
The warm skin-to-skin contact anchored me. I tried to think of something to describe Fletch. “It's his need for approval from his dad. He'll do extreme stuff like making a skydiving video to add to his show to prove his manhood to his dad, and to prove that being a magician is manly.”
But there was more, and it had to do with Grandpa. How did I get it across? “For some reason, he's focused on Grandpa too. He's important to Fletch, I guess because he can get Grandpa's respect and approval. He always jokes about marrying me, but I think he would marry me just to get Grandpa in the bargain.”
Vance nodded. “That indicates something a little stronger than focus. More like obsession. Where do you think Fletch is now?”
I shrugged in frustration. “Don't know. If he hurt Michelle, why?” Then I remembered. “Lola, Grandpa, and I thought she knew whose show Shane was spoiling. Fletch must have figured she knew too.”
“Cleaning up loose ends,” Gabe said.
“He appears to have some agenda to keep him here in Elsinore,” Vance said.
I looked around. Why had he stayed in Elsinore? Once he killed Shane, shouldn't he have left? It didn't make sense. He'd been helping Grandpa. . . . I looked up. “Maybe he was trying to stay close to the investigation to find out what was going on? Then he figured Michelle was a threat? Would he think anyone else is a threat?”
“Anything's possible. Many killers stay close by to keep tabs on what's happening in the investigation. All right.” Vance snapped his little notebook shut. “I'm going to go take a look at the scene.”
Gabe said, “Any problem with us leaving?”
“Keep your cell phones on,” Vance said, and walked away.
Gabe tugged on my hand. “Come on. We're going to get you some hot coffee and something to eat.”
His concern made me realize that I was being selfish. It was Gabe that found Michelle first. Gabe had been the one giving her CPR and fighting to keep her alive. At the front of his truck, I stopped. “I'm fine. But how about you?”
The cop-ice glaze cracked. Gabe pulled his mouth thin and tight. “She had better live. I hate it when they die after I work that hard to keep them alive.”
Interesting.
She
had no name. It was
she, they,
or
them.
He distanced himself automatically. And that was partly how he handled it.
“Let's get some coffee, stud. Then we'll see what we should do next.”
We went over to Hunny's restaurant. It was tucked back from Riverside Drive right next to the Kentucky Fried Chicken and a laundromat. After finding a slot for the truck on the bricked parking lot, Gabe and I went inside. We took a seat at a booth that had a window facing the street.
The campground was a little ways down and across the street. The lunch crowd had emptied out, and we had the place practically to ourselves. There were TVs that played the Keno numbers mounted over the bar. A waitress in a shorts-with-nylons uniform took our order. Gabe had the beefeater sandwich, and I had French onion soup and corn bread.
After the waitress left, I looked at Gabe. “What do we do next?”
“You, Barney, and the boys will stay at my house. We'll check in with Nikki and Bo and make sure they are safe. Fletch may be gone, Sam.”
“What about his dad? Would Fletch go home to Montana?”
“That's a possibility.”
We stopped talking while the waitress brought our food and checked our coffee. When she left, I shook my head. “I can't believe he was in our house, helping Grandpa, and he was the killer the whole time.” I looked down at the soup. My stomach tightened into a knot. “TJ and Joel, he could have hurt them.”
“Don't do that, Sam. They are fine. Your mom has them.”
I nodded, staring at the cheese and bread at the top of my soup. “Do you think Fletch is really gone now? On the run? He had a rental truck; has he turned it in? Taken it? Stolen something else? Bought something else?”
Gabe took a bite of his sandwich, then picked up a french fry and pointed it toward my soup.
I picked up the spoon and cut a chunk of the thick, spongy bread and a glob of cheese. I set it back down and drank some coffee. Then I cut a piece of the corn bread and moved it around.
Gabe set his sandwich down. “What?”
I looked up. “He's not done. Fletch, I mean. He's got some other purpose here.”
“Hmm. Okay, what?”
“I don't know. It's just that he was determined enough to kill Shane to keep Shane from humiliating him in front of his dad. Or I think that's why he did it. But he stayed around Grandpa the whole time.”
“He didn't expect the first hit to go wrong. And then Shane demanded that Barney help him find the magician who ordered the hit,” Gabe added.
“Right. Fletch could have been doing damage control by keeping an eye on what Grandpa found. Maybe he was even attempting to protect Grandpa since he never meant for him to get involved. It was Shane that dragged Grandpa into this.” It just seemed like it was more than that with Fletch.
Gabe reached over and cupped his large hand around mine. “But?”
I used my free hand to break off a piece of corn bread and stuffed it in my mouth while thinking about Gabe's question.
But what?
Fletch was bent on impressing his dad. He had added fireworks to his show a few years back for that reason. His latest scheme was the video backdrops of extreme sports. I swallowed the bread and said, “Fletch's dad is a blood sport kind of guy. A hunter. What if Fletch thought that killing Shane would impress his dad?”
Gabe kept his gaze locked on me. “Twisted thinking, but murder usually is. So okay, he's killed Shane and thinks he killed Michelle because she knew something, so now he'd be finished, right?” He took his hand back to eat more of his sandwich.
I ate a bite of soup. What was bugging me exactly? Gabe was right that if Fletch killed Shane to keep from being humiliated in front of his dad, and/or to impress his dad, then he'd be done and likely take off.
But I didn't think he was done. What was it Fletch had said about Shane? I thought back to the morning Fletch had come over before Grandpa got back from dropping the boys at school. Fletch had seemed worried about my poking around in Shane's business. He said that he understood Shane . . . that was it! Fletch said,
Shane's the magician that went bad. I'm the one who is succeeding. I understand a little better how Shane thinks and how Shane's betrayal is a black mark on Barney's stellar career.
I set my spoon down. “Fletch said that Shane was a black mark on Grandpa's career. Shane was the magician that had gone bad while he was the success.”
Gabe wiped his hands on a napkin. “Sort of like the good son and the bad son?”
“Right.” I sipped some coffee. The hot soup and coffee were doing the trick, helping me to calm down and focus. So what was Fletch doing?
“Did Fletch know Shane? I mean personally? He knows Bo, right? They seemed familiar with each other at your house when Bo cooked dinner.”
Gabe was trying to help me get to the thing that was bugging me. “You know, when Grandpa was toasting Bo for his cartoon character the night Bo made jambalaya for us, Fletch dropped his glass of wine. At the time, he looked dejected and miserable. I thought he was upset that he ruined Bo's moment.”
Gabe pushed his plate away. “But he could have been purposely ruining Bo's moment. Because Fletch is supposed to be Barney's shining star.”
My nerves flared to life, and the muscles in my neck and shoulders clenched tight. “Gabe, could he think that Grandpa belongs to him? Is that what kept him in Elsinore?” Worry rushed at me, suddenly making me anxious and antsy.
The waitress came by and asked if we wanted anything else, then left the check. I reached for my purse.
Gabe pulled out his wallet. “We'll go back to the office and check on Barney, then we'll see.” He pulled fifteen dollars out and left it on the tray. “Let's go.”
I got up and held out the money for him.
Gabe looked down at it, then back up at me. “You are insisting on paying your way at work, and that's fine. I get it. But I can buy you lunch without it being a big deal. Now let's go.”
We had just gotten into Gabe's truck when his cell phone rang. He pulled it off his belt, looked at the display window, then answered with, “What's up?”
He looked over at me as he listened. Then he said, “We're closer to the house, but go. Are Blaine and Lola with you?” He started the engine and backed out of the parking space.
What was wrong? I had to bite down on the inside of my cheeks to keep from demanding to know what was going on.
Gabe said, “Stay together and keep an eye on Lola.” He hung up.
“What?”
Gabe turned out on the small street that led to Riverside Drive. “Rosy came by the office and said something about Nikki being sick. She seemed upset. Barney told Cal he was going to walk her to her car. It was ten minutes before Cal realized they both left in Rosy's car.” He made a right onto Riverside, then gunned it up to Lincoln where he made another right.
“That makes no sense. Why would Rosy come get Grandpa if Nikki was sick? He's a magician not a doctor.” I squeezed my hands together, then I grabbed my phone out of my purse. “I'll call Grandpa's cell.” I hit speed dial and waited through the rings. “No answer. Something's wrong.” I fought to breathe. Raw fear fogged my brain. What was going on? “Could it have been Nikki all along? Was Rosy in on it, somehow trying to save her granddaughter? But why get Grandpa to go with her?”
Gabe said, “Call Vance. We're only a minute from Rosy's house if that's where they were headed.”
I had to clutch the phone to steady my shaking hands, but I found Vance's number and hit Send. I knew he was probably still at the campground. I got his voice mail. Trying not to cry or scream, I said, “Vance, it's Sam. Gabe's brother just called. Rosy Malone went to Heart Mates and said something about her granddaughter, Nikki Eden, being sick. Grandpa left with her. We think something is wrong and are on our way to Rosy's house to check.” I hoped I made sense, and hung up. “What if they didn't go to Rosy's house?”
Gabe made a hard right on Machado. “We'll find out in a second.” He went a little ways down the street, passed Rosy's house, then did an illegal U-turn and parked where a large bush hid the truck from anyone looking out the front window.
“That's Rosy's Grand Am.” I pointed to the brown car parked on the half-circle driveway. “And that's Nikki's car.” I didn't see any other car. Maybe Nikki really was sick. “What do we do?”
Gabe looked over at the house. “What's in the back of the house?”
I tried to see the house in my head. “There's a sliding glass door and a kitchen door in the back. And there's a slider in the master bedroom.”
He looked around the neighborhood. There was a school a little ways up the street. They had let out already, so that was good. “I'm going to try and get in from the back.” He settled his serious, dark gaze on me. “Why don't you stay here and wait for Cal?”
I had another idea. “I'll go to the front door and knock. That will distract anyone from realizing you are coming in the back.”
“No, it's too dangerous. We don't know who is in there. Sam, Nikki might be the killer. Maybe it was revenge all along and Fletch's show being the target of Shane's show was just a coincidence.”
I nodded. “Then I'm going with you. It's my grandfather.”
He reached out and took my arm, pulling me closer to his face. “I am not going let TJ and Joel lose the only parent they have. You are staying here.”

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