Page 130 of What Doesn't Kill Her

“But she wrote the note!” Verona didn’t want to believe.

“That someone forced her to write the note.” Kellen looked again at the note part of the drawing. “She wrote to me. ‘Dear Mommy.’ ‘Hed.’ ‘Back.’”

Verona grabbed Kellen’s arm. “What does that mean?”

“Something about the goddess head and—she has my back, and I have hers.” Kellen headed toward the closet and the safe. She used her usual code, 3252.

The safe didn’t open.

She took a breath, slowly punched in the number, 3,2,5,2.

The safe didn’t open.

“No!” She slammed the flat of her hand on the safe. “Why? Why now?”

“Let me.” Verona gave Kellen a gentle shove. “Do you know how many guests forget their own code? Of course everyone of responsibility at the winery has to know how to open a safe.” She typed in a special code.

The safe sang a little song, the door swung open—“There’s nothing here,” Verona said.

“No,” Kellen said hoarsely. “No!” She swept the lighted interior with her arm, as if she was a magician with an empty hat. “Max was supposed to put my bag in here. My bag packed with arms and ammunition. Why didn’t he? What happened?” Stricken, she looked at Verona. “Does Max know I changed rooms?”

Verona shook her head. “No, he doesn’t know. The groom needs to stay far away from your bedroom. What do you mean, arms? What do you mean, ammunition?”

“He must have put my backpack in the bridal suite. How could such a thing happen?” Kellen answered herself, “Well, easily enough, with everything that’s going on today. I should have carried my sidearm with me, but I was thinking of...corsets and ruffles and stiletto heels, and it never occurred to me—”

Verona got it at last. “There are guns in the suite with Aurora’s grandchildren?” Her voice squeaked in horror.

“The safe is locked,” Kellen assured her.

Verona dived for the phone and called the winery switchboard. She held out the phone as if begging Kellen to hear. “The line is busy. I have to leave a message!”

“Then leave the message in your sternest teacher voice,” Kellen said. “You know whoever hears it will immediately do as you say.”

“Right. They will.” Kellen’s trust in her abilities seemed to calm Verona, and Verona spoke into the phone, asking that someone be sent to the wedding suite to open the safe, secure the bag inside and bring it to room 345. She hung up and in despair said, “But today they’re so busy. Who knows when they’ll listen?”

“True. At the best, how quickly can they get it here?” Birdie asked.

“Not quickly enough. We need to move now.” Kellen began to settle into that deadly calm before battle. “If whoever took Rae is already on the property—”

“What do you think has happened to my granddaughter?” Verona demanded in a high voice.

“She’s been taken by someone who wants me dead.”

“I’ll call 9-1-1.” Verona pulled her cell phone out of her belt pocket and waved it at Kellen.

Kellen clasped her wrist. “No.”

Verona tried to jerk away. “Why?”

“I’ll handle it.” She indicated Birdie. “We’ll handle it.”

Birdie, tall, calm and intent, gowned beautifully and ready to fight.

Verona’s gaze flicked between them both. “How can you—?”

“The police would make this a hostage situation. Rae might die. I didn’t take Rae up that mountain and bring her back alive to lose her now. You can trust me.” Kellen stared into Verona’s eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Verona nodded.

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