“Random three people or specific three people?” Ezekiel persisted.
“Three females. The B and B owner, her kid and the main worker there. Do them in a nasty way that brings a million cops and detectives and then once everyone’s inside, start one hell of a fire. Pull in the rest of them. Like I say, a diversion of some kind.”
“A kid?” Ezekiel echoed. “As in a little girl? You don’t mind killing a child?”
“It’s just business. I don’t pick them. Someone else is responsible for that.”
As he answered Ezekiel, Henry had been loosening his bonds. He ripped off the hood and leapt at Ezekiel at the same time. Ezekiel seemed to be waiting for him. As the man’s body slammed hard into Zeke’s, the knife Malichai’s brother was holding low, blade up, went right into the prisoner. It sank in and, almost on reflex, Ezekiel twisted it. He stepped back as he pulled the blade free.
Henry went to his knees and then fell facedown. He lay there without a sound.
“Guess I should have checked those ties after he was on the ground,” Ezekiel said.
“Hope that made you feel better,” Malichai said. “We needed to get a lot more out of him. I noticed you just happened to have a tarp and plastic down to cover the cement.”
Ezekiel shrugged. “It sucks trying to get blood out of cement. It was a precaution.”
“I’ll just bet it was,” Malichai said. Had he done the same thing, Ezekiel would lecture him for a week. “How are you going to explain to the cops what went on here?”
“Military investigation suddenly running into a civilian one. I’ll report the dead guy to Joe and he’ll have to give the news to Major General,” Ezekiel said.
“I’ll leave you to it. I need to get back to Amaryllis.” He was definitely running like a chicken, but he wasn’t going to answer any of Ezekiel’s questions about his woman and why he hadn’t reported right away that she was one of Whitney’s orphans.
Ezekiel hissed something derogatory about his parents, but since they weren’t the nicest of people, and they shared them, Malichai didn’t mind. It didn’t even slow him down. He got out of the danger zone and back into the street, trying not to laugh at his brother’s annoyance.9I just don’t understand what’s going on,” Lorrie Montclair said, shivering, moving her body close to Malichai as if for protection. “Lexie wanted to leave, but Linda and I said that wouldn’t be right. And the murder didn’t occur here.”
“It could have,” Lexie said stubbornly. “It could have, right, Mr. Fortunes?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
Before he could answer, Linda jumped into the conversation. “Lexie, honey, what about Marie losing all that money? It’s not like she could get anyone else in at this late date. Isn’t that right, Mr. Fortunes?”
“Call me Malichai,” he said, trying not to grit his teeth. He felt like he wanted to scream. He’d rather be skinned alive than talk to the trio of sisters. Talking to the Montclair women was a little like attending a Ping-Pong tournament.
“Please sit with us tonight,” Lorrie added, looking up at him with what, he was certain, she thought was a vulnerable, frightened face.
Malichai saw a wolf in lamb’s clothing. His woman needed protection from these three. Most likely, he did as well.
“I’m so frightened. So is Lexie. We need to know what’s going on.”
He looked helplessly up at Amaryllis as she stood behind the counter, serving the main course to everyone—the main course she’d prepared. The food was always made with the best ingredients and whatever else she put into it that made the dishes taste amazing.
Amaryllis hid a smile, but it was impossible to hide the lights dancing in her eyes. She was having just a little too much fun at his expense. “Actually, Malichai, I think Lorrie has a very good idea. If you sit with them, you can explain everything to them and alleviate their worries.” She flashed another reassuring smile at the three women. “Malichai did speak at length with the detectives, so he can answer any of your questions,” she added.
He sent her a look that promised retaliation but obediently took his plate and followed the three women to the tables. He noticed the talk was rather subdued as he moved through the dining room to get to the table the sisters considered “theirs.” They’d taken over that particular table almost immediately and glared at anyone who dared to try to sit there. It was empty and the women put their plates down, Lorrie scooting her chair as close to Malichai’s as she could without sitting in his lap.
“Are you dating Amaryllis?” Linda asked abruptly.
“She’s my fiancée,” he said, feeling a little desperate, but more than happy to claim his woman for protection.