Not poison my ass, Ms. DD Fashion Model.
Emma Wells was poisoned. And logically, the fake Naomi Wells was here to poison us as well. Except—no. I love logic as much as anyone, but what is logical to me is only logical because of my limited view of a picture not yet drawn. I’ve already said that the killer doesn’t want me dead, at least not yet. That’s my instinct. I’m sticking with it.
He or she–my gut says “he” despite Naomi’s presence tonight—he tested me tonight to find out how easily I could be manipulated, and how easily he could get close to me. And maybe Kane.
That means he used Naomi. She’s his weakness. She could talk. We need to find her.
And tonight’s events drive home the idea that the killer wants me to play a game with him.
Obviously, he has no idea that I’m not somebody you want to play with. In fact, I’m the one who no one will even play monopoly with. Apparently, I’m intolerable. I like to win. I hate to lose. That hasn’t changed. He won’t like how I play.
For now, I make my way to the bathroom, bag our Advil and Excedrin, and hand over all the samples I’ve take to one of Andrew’s men. Andrew is nowhere to be found. I re-enter the kitchen to make sure I didn’t miss anything. That’s when Kane appears at the side of the bar, where I’d been working earlier, and motions for me to join him in the other room. I yank off my gloves, toss them, and follow him to the living room. We end up in the living room by the tree, which had been our effort to be normal. We are obviously not normal and can’t even pretend otherwise.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that mac ‘n’ cheese looks fantastic. I might have to kill that bitch Naomi or whatever her real name is, when I find her for denying me my favorite food.”
“Unless she saved us.”
“Hmm. I don’t know how I feel about that statement, but not very on target.” My cellphone rings and I drag it from my pocket to eye the caller ID. “It’s Chief Houston,” I say before answering without the pretense of niceties. I’m not a unicorn or a nun. “Well?”
“Naomi Wells is alive and well. We scared the shit out of her.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A family that fights crime together, stays together and alive. It’s a bonding experience. Some might say it’s special. Forget that we also committed a crime together. We’re fighting the bad guys. That’s what matters. Unless one of us ends up dead. That’s what I’m worried about with Lucas, that I pulled him into the wrong story, that he searched for the wrong person.
I’m eager to find him and wring his neck.
Kane and I make it as far as the foyer when Andrew corners us. “No word on the fake Naomi yet, but my team needs to come in and take fingerprints that we can try to match to the database.” He eyes Kane. “We’ll need to look at your security cameras.”
Bonding is over, I think, even before Kane says, “You can fingerprint. We’ll handle the cameras.”
I can predict the rabbit hole of accusation that is flooding my brother’s brain even before he replies with a disdainful, “Of course you will. I’m sure you have plenty of things on the feed you don’t want me to see.”
“Such as us naked in the very kitchen your dinner was being made in?” I challenge.
His lashes lower and he scowls. “Lilah.”
Beside me, Kane doesn’t so much as bristle. I suspect he’s enjoying Andrew’s discomfort. This might bother another sister, but to me, embracing your brother’s discomfort is a mandatory part of sibling love.
“I’m just keeping it real, Andrew,” I continue. “Kane and I like to mix things up, keep things from getting boring. I’m sure you know what I mean. In other words, the East Hampton police department doesn’t get to make us your Saturday night high.” I change the topic. “How long will your team be here to take prints?”
“At least half an hour,” Andrew replies, sliding into the change of topic with what I read as relief.
Kane replies to a text message on his phone and then says, “One of my men, Jay, is coming to supervise. He’ll lock up when you’re done.”
“You trust him but you don’t trust me,” Andrew says dryly.
“And?” Kane challenges with good reason. It wasn’t that long ago that Andrew vowed to destroy Kane, to get him away from me.
Of course, that was before the dead body, but Kane doesn’t trust easily, even with ammunition on someone. A well-known fact that I suspect keeps the Society on their toes and hating him.
“Don’t hassle Jay,” I add. “He’s the guy who stepped between me and the Umbrella Man and took a bullet for it.” I leave out the part where that was a stupid move, considering the Umbrella Man didn’t want me dead, but Jay, as my bodyguard at the time, was another story. The asshole could have gotten himself killed. He almost did. Bottom line, Jay was brave. He’s a man’s man, one who wouldn’t be throwing up in a trashcan because he heard about a murder.