Dark Shadows (Gia Santella Crime Thrillers Book 11) by Kristi Belcamino (best motivational novels txt) 📗

I looked over at Owen. He was slumped at a bar stool looking into his drink.

12

Back on the yacht, I pretended to guess how old they were then feigned disbelief until they showed me their licenses to prove it. Armed with their full names and dates of birth, I called Danny in San Francisco.

“I need everything you can dig up on these two women,” I said and reeled off Amanda and Hannah’s information. I also gave him Owen’s first and last name, saying all I knew is that he was from L.A.

“I know it’s not much but anything you can find would help.”

Danny said he’d get back to me in a few hours. He was away from home right then.

“What?”

This was welcome news.

He cleared his throat. Was he embarrassed?

“I’m, uh, well, my girlfriend and I, we started walking every day, and we’re on a walk.”

“That fantastic, Danny.”

I worried about that kid so much. He had a disease called gigantism where he grew too much and too fast and might die young. But I tried to never think about that last aspect of it.

Danny finding a girlfriend a few years back was the best thing ever. She was a good influence and took care of him, making him eat real food like fruits and vegetables instead of endless boxes of pizza. Now, she was making him walk. I could not be happier.

“Take your time, D,” I said. “And tell Rachel hello for me.”

I hung up.

From the kitchen window, I could see that Sabine, Clint, and Conner were out at the pool. For a second that worried me. But I figured Amanda and Owen were probably in their room and Hannah, hopefully, was in hers. Keeping those two women apart was key right now.

I had just headed outside when my phone rang.

It was Commissaire Boucher. I’d given him my number when he interviewed me. I pivoted away from the pool area and went off to a small garden on the side of the house.

“We will be there in the morning to make an arrest.”

“Keep talking,” I said.

He paused as if waiting for me to say something more.

My heart beat double-time. I closed my eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

Calm the fuck down, Santella. Think. He remained silent, obviously waiting for me to speak first. I inhaled sharply.

“I’m assuming it’s not me you’re going to arrest, or you wouldn’t have called first,” I said.

“Very astute,” he said.

“Is that sarcasm?”

He gave a small chuckle. “We will be taking Amanda into custody. Based on your statement and some other interesting evidence.”

I frowned. “With all due respect, I don’t think she has it in her,” I said. “If you’re arresting her just based on what I overheard, please rethink this. I can’t imagine her doing it.”

“That’s what I thought at first, as well,” he admitted. “Which is why the arrest has been so delayed, but ultimately I cannot argue with the evidence.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I said.

“Ryder vouched for you.”

“Huh.” I wondered again what his connection with the police department was.

“I want you to be aware of the situation to keep yourself safe.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” I said. “But I don’t understand. What else makes you think it’s Amanda?”

He sighed.

“Blood on some of her clothing. In her suitcase, we found a supply of a drug we suspect will come back in Lucas’s toxicology report,” he said. “We also drew blood from Hannah. We think both of them were drugged. I will see you in the morning. I suggest you lock the door to your room tonight.”

“Like I said, you don’t have to worry about me, but I still have a hard time believing that Amanda is a killer.”

“Goodnight,” he said and hung up.

I walked back toward the door leading into the house. As I did, I saw a figure on one of the balconies upstairs melt into the dark shadows. I strained my eyes but couldn’t see anyone. Someone had been eavesdropping. The balcony was a public one off of a sitting room upstairs. One that anyone could have accessed.

I would be keeping Ryder’s gun close tonight.

In addition to locking my bedroom doors, I set an expensive-looking vase on the floor against it, hoping the sound of it shattering or, at the very least, falling over, would wake me if someone managed to unlock my door. I stuck Ryder’s gun on the nightstand and crawled under the covers, leaving the French doors open to the balcony.

It would take someone with the superpowers of Spiderman to get onto my balcony. Or…someone with a ladder. Thinking this, I got out of bed and closed the doors, irritated that I’d lost the cool night breeze.

I didn’t think anyone in the house had the balls to confront me, but who knew? Plus, honestly, despite the detective’s confidence in his evidence, I had a hell of a hard time believing anyone in the house, especially Amanda, could kill anyone.

If so, she was a damn good actress.

If I had to pick one of them, my money would’ve been on Owen.

I reached over and felt for my phone and called the detective. It went straight to voicemail.

I opened my mouth to leave a message, but then didn’t know what to say. What could I say? I thought that Lucas and Amanda were having an affair and that Owen killed his competition?

I hung up. Maybe I would try to have a conversation with the detective in person the next day.

Even through my closed window I could hear the others out at the pool until late, talking. Even knowing one of them might be a killer, the murmur of their voices was strangely soothing. I’d obviously been alone too long.

Finally, my mind settled from all the possible scenarios and thoughts of murder, and I fell asleep.

When I woke, the house was silent, and the sun was just starting to flood my bedroom. The first thing I did was throw open the French Doors and