Dead Girl Running (Cape Charade #1)(73)

“I mean…what are you thinking about the situation we have here at the resort? About the violence. What do you think is happening?”

“Have you seen Temo?” He sounded tense, terse, intent.

“I haven’t seen much of him, no.” She’d heard him in the maintenance garage. She’d heard him on the phone. But other than the brief chat in the resort kitchen, she hadn’t seen him.

“I’ll be frank with you. He’s got me worried. Working weird hours, mad at the world, talking about family. His mother recently went to prison, and did you hear about the stepfather?”

“I… No. I didn’t hear anything about his stepfather.”

“Temo told me he’s going to kill him.”

Kellen put it together. “Because of his sister?”

“He said he put the girl with relatives, but he hasn’t called her and he won’t say anything about her. I don’t know.” Mitch seemed bewildered. “When Temo lost his leg, he went violent. And that poor fellow who died—”

“Lloyd Magnuson?”

“Yes, him. Temo was the last one to see him. What is he thinking? Why would he kill him?”

Kellen’s doubts twisted and changed. Was Mitch deliberately misleading her, turning the evidence toward Temo? But he wasn’t, really. Only reminding her of Temo’s odd and disturbing actions. Even so, it was Mitch she mistrusted. Mitch had never done anything Kellen could put her finger on, yet he smiled when he should frown, moved when he should be still. When he spoke of his parents, he did so with reverence, but to her knowledge, in all the time he’d been here, he never contacted them and not once had he passed on family news or anecdotes. Not that Kellen trusted Temo, but more than that, the way Mitch looked at his own hands made her think she should get a message to Nils Brooks about the statues in Carson Lennex’s care.

She projected a mix of worry and urgency—and she wasn’t acting. “Do we have other guests to be transported?”

“I didn’t think you ever forgot anything like guests and their comings and goings.” But he didn’t seem unduly suspicious. He seemed preoccupied. “The newlyweds were fighting and they didn’t get ready in time to go with the Shivering Sherlocks. They should be in the lobby now.”

“Please take them to the airstrip while I search for any remaining guests and the employees who haven’t checked in.” She stopped the van under the portico and grasped Mitch’s hands. “Thank you for warning me about Temo. I swear, when this is over, you’ll get your reward.”

Mitch looked as if he didn’t know if he’d been praised or threatened, and for sure he didn’t want to take the newlyweds anywhere. But he didn’t challenge Kellen, and as she fled into the lobby and up the stairs to Annie’s office, he was rounding up the newlyweds and loading them into the van.

Kellen hoped he would stop at the kitchen for their appetizers, but she was willing to bet the fighting newlyweds were getting the Shivering Sherlocks’ leftovers. In the meantime, she needed to track down Nils Brooks. She called him, left a message. Texted him that she knew where the stolen tomb artifacts were. Got no response.

She got a text from Max. Can you come to security?

She hurried.

He sat alone in the room, facing the wall of monitors. He beckoned her over. “Look at this.”

She joined Max and watched as Mr. Lennex walked along an empty fifth-floor corridor, holding something that looked like a big flat book. He looked around to make sure he was alone, then disappeared into the housekeepers’ storage closet. He came out with another big flat book, a little larger, but he was holding it by the corners, looking at it and smiling.

He was holding a painting of some kind.

“What the hell?” Max said.

Light dawned in a slow, warm sunshine. “That’s it. That’s what he’s been doing.” Kellen kissed Max on the cheek. “Thank you. You’re brilliant!” She ran toward the door, turned back. “Have you seen Nils Brooks?”

“Not at all.” Max had his hand on his cheek and he watched her like…like Hagrid viewed a new dragon egg.

Damn it. Mara was right. As if things weren’t complicated enough, Max was interested. She backed toward the door and out. “If you see him, I really need to speak to him.”

As the door shut, she heard him say, “Hmm.”

What did that mean? Nothing good, she was sure.

She beat Carson Lennex back to his suite. She knocked, and when he didn’t answer, she let herself in, left the door open behind her and went up the spiral stairs to the bedroom. Exactly as Candy had said, the sculptures were displayed against a lighted backdrop that underscored the skill of the artists who had created them.

From downstairs, she heard Carson call, “Hello?”

“I’m up here, Mr. Lennex.”

He ran lightly up the stairs, and at the sight of her, he lifted his eyebrows. “I’ve had a lot of women trick their way into my bedroom, but I never imagined you’d be one of them. Aren’t I lucky!” His Irish accent gave the words a sardonic quality, and he joined her to look at the sculptures. “But I suspect I’m mistaken in your intentions.”

“None of the housekeeping staff came in today. I could make your bed while I’m here.” She took the painting out of his hands. “May I?” Splatters and squares made up the image. “Is it good?”