Page 94 of Wild Fever
Ruby red lipstick stained the bottom of the page. A last kiss goodbye.
I had to admit, I was a little sad to see her go. The vixen had grown on me.
I pulled on my clothes, grabbed my pistol, and hustled down to the main deck. I didn't bother to roust JD out of bed.
The boat was quiet. Buddy stirred on the couch, but didn't seem too interested in moving. I grabbed my helmet and gloves, then hustled down the dock to my sportbike. I was still on administrative leave, but I wasn't going to sit this one out.
I straddled the bike, cranked up the engine, and pulled on my helmet. I rolled out of the lot and zipped over to Stingray Bay. It was a nice night for a ride, and there was barely anyone on the road.
I kept thinking about Kara and where she might have gone. I would need to get those thoughts out of my mind. I didn't think she was coming back anytime soon. If she were smart, she'd walk far away from this life and never look back.
I pulled into Stingray Bay and twisted through the streets of the posh neighborhood and parked at the curb in front of the Wentworth estate. I pulled off my helmet, threw my gloves inside, and left it hanging from the handlebars. I hustled up the walkway to the front door.
Vanessa waited for me. She looked like she’d guzzled a pot of coffee—her eyes wide, her hand still jittery. She gripped the pistol tightly.
"Thanks for coming.”
I stepped inside with my weapon drawn and cleared the foyer. The assailant lay on the imported marble tile at the base of the grand staircase. From the blood splatter, it was clear that the perp had been shot a few steps up and tumbled back down. Vanessa had put two shots center mass into the woman.
“Nice aim,” I said.
“Thank you.”
The perp wore tight black yoga pants, black sneakers, a black long-sleeve fitted top, and a black balaclava. Her long raven hair hung below the mask to her mid-back.
I approached, knelt beside the body, and checked vitals.
60
She was indeed dead.
A black 9mm pistol lay not far from the body.
The small gap between her fitted top and her yoga pants exposed an area of bare skin on her lower back. It revealed a glimpse of a Chinese character tattooed in the small of her back. I was pretty sure this was the same woman who was caught on video leaving the marina after Preston's death. This was most likely his mistress, Molly Lewis. Perhaps his assassin. I was ever more convinced that Preston hadn’t killed himself.
"Can you describe the other assailant?" I asked Vanessa.
"Not really. It was dark.” She thought about it for a second. "Big guy. Not as big as you. Maybe 6’1” or 6’2”.”
I pulled off the woman's balaclava to get a look at her face. She was an attractive woman in her late-20s. I snapped a photo of her blank expression and sent it to Isabella. I didn't expect a response at this time of night, but Isabella kept odd hours. The stress of the job kept her from sleeping most nights.
"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this wasn't your average break-in. They were looking for something.”
"The data that Edward had compiled on Elias?”
I shook my head. "No. I don't think Elias had your father killed. This is something else entirely."
Vanessa's face wrinkled with confusion. "I don't understand. If Elias didn't have my parents killed, who did?”
I didn’t have answers for her at the moment. I called the sheriff and filled him in on the situation.
Squad cars arrived, and so did the medical examiner and the forensic team. We were keeping them busy tonight. Dietrich snapped photos of the deceased. Camera flashes bounced off the tile, filling the foyer.
Daniels grumbled at me when he arrived. “You’re supposed to be on leave.”
I shrugged innocently. “Just helping out a friend.”
“You have any idea who this is and what she’s doing here?”
