If Looks Could Kill (5 page)

“Gotcha. Serve and volley, but no love,” George quipped. “Do you seriously think it's Kurt, though? I mean, just because he can't spell?”

“I would have said yes until a few minutes ago,” Nancy replied. “Now I've got to consider Derek, too. Of course, it doesn't make sense that he'd try to ruin his sister. But we know he's stealing from her. So there's definitely more to him than meets the eye.”

“Isn't there always?” Bess said with a sigh. “Why can't a gorgeous guy just be gorgeous?”

Bess yawned. “I'm exhausted,” she said, stretching. “What time is it?”

George checked her watch and said, “Almost ten. Do you realize we were up at five-thirty this morning in River Heights?”

“Well, if I'm getting up at seven, I'm going to bed right now,” Bess said, heading for the bathroom. “I've got a monster day ahead of me. How about you, George?”

“I'm with you,” she said, getting up. “Nan?”

“I'll prowl around awhile first,” Nancy said. “My mind is racing a mile a minute still, and I don't think I could sleep if I tried.”

“Sorting out the suspects already?” George asked, stopping short of the bathroom.

“Uh-huh.” After saying good night, Nancy went downstairs to the lobby and out the rear doors to the patio. It was dotted with wrought-iron tables and chairs and ended about a hundred feet from the edge of the cliff. Off to the left was a gazebo, perfectly placed for watching the secluded beach below.

In all, there were three sets of stairs leading down to the shore—one toward the middle of the patio and one at either end. All along the stone railing, people stood in small groups or pairs gazing out at the crashing surf and star-studded sky. Nancy joined them, struck by the beauty of the scene.

“Hi, there.” Nancy wheeled around to see Martika approaching, wearing a white blouse with billowing sleeves and a flowing dark skirt. “I went to your suite, and your friends said you'd gone for a walk. Glad I found you.”

“Did you want to talk to me about anything in particular?” Nancy asked.

“Lots of things,” Martika said, slipping an arm through Nancy's and leading her toward the set of stairs farthest from the gazebo. “I was just going for my nightly walk on the beach. Will you please come along so we can talk?”

“Great,” Nancy said, raising her eyes to the sky. The moon was full and orange, with knifelike clouds racing across it.

“I love walking on the beach at night,” Martika said as they started down the stairs. “It helps me unwind. I've been so busy getting ready for the opening. And with all the threats—” she added in a whisper.

“I can imagine,” Nancy said sympathetically.

The steps down to the beach were lit with little multicolored electric lanterns. Nancy noticed
that the cliff wasn't terribly high or steep, but it had lots of rugged outcroppings of rocks.

“You've done a fantastic job designing this place,” Nancy said admiringly. “I can't imagine it won't be successful.”

Martika put a hand on Nancy's arm. “It'll be successful if
you
are,” she said.

Nancy nodded. “By the way,” she began, “Kurt was late for his body-sculpting demonstration this afternoon. He says he was taking care of the celebrity guests. But he might have had time to let Squeeze out and drop that note.”

“I really doubt that, Nancy,” Martika replied. Then she frowned. “What bothers me is that he was late for that demonstration. Kurt may be a problem. His attitude couldn't be worse.”

“He seems to have a great attitude to me,” Nancy said.

“Maybe it's only when I'm around that he has an attitude,” Martika said.

“One thing's for sure—his spelling is terrible,” Nancy remarked. She took Kurt's notice out of her pocket and showed it to Martika.

Martika's eyes grew round with surprise. “So it
was
Kurt who wrote those notes. Maybe he's in cahoots with Christina. I had a funny feeling it was a mistake to give him a job, but I ignored it. I guess he's never forgiven me for breaking up with him.”

“Wait a minute,” Nancy said, calmly laying a hand on Martika's shoulder. “This isn't exactly concrete proof that he's guilty. Someone may just be trying to make him appear that way.”

Martika blinked, taking it in. “I see,” she said, nodding slowly. “Anyway, I can't very well fire him in the middle of my opening week. How would it look?”

Martika stopped at a landing halfway down and leaned against the rail. The breeze rustled her coal black hair.

“Tell me about Derek,” Nancy said. “I know you don't think it's him, but still . . .”

“Derek? He's a gambler who never wins. I've been bailing him out ever since our father died. We lost our mother when Derek was just a baby, and Dad raised us. Things were hard. I don't know how much you know about my past.”

“Nothing at all,” Nancy admitted. “I don't read celebrity magazines much. That's Bess's department.”

“I see. Well, at one time my dad was a big Wall Street broker. He and his brother owned their own brokerage firm. But then one day my uncle disappeared, taking all the firm's assets with him. Of course the brokerage house failed. My father made good on all the claims against it and went broke in the process. He never spoke about it when we were growing up, but I dug around and
found out. We were never allowed to mention my uncle around our house.”

“And he changed your family name from Sawin to Sawyer?” Nancy asked.

Martika was taken aback. “How did you know that?”

“Christina,” Nancy told her.

Martika frowned. “That woman is always spreading dirt about me,” she complained.

“Where did your uncle go?” Nancy asked, getting back to the subject.

“I have no idea,” Martika said. “Out of the country, I presume. In any case, we were poor from then on. I started modeling to support us, and Derek started sponging off me. Since Dad died a couple of years ago, Derek's gone to pot. Oh, he looks good, but he can't hold down a job. He always comes to me for money, and I always give it to him. But I told him last week the party was over, that he'd have to earn his keep by helping me with Cloud Nine.”

“I see,” Nancy said. “Did you know he was stealing company checks?”

Martika gave Nancy a startled look, which immediately turned to one of admiration. “You're very good, Nancy. Carson was right. I'm glad I asked you to come here.”

Then she stared out at the water and sighed. “Yes, I know Derek has been writing checks and
forging my name. It's not the sort of thing a person can get away with for very long. I've been replacing the amounts from my own savings. But as I said, I've told him it's got to stop. He's on the payroll now, and he's going to have to live on his salary. Anyway, I still don't think he'd sabotage me, since I supply him with money.”

“I guess so,” Nancy agreed, as they continued on down the steps. There was no one else on the beach. After they stepped off the stairs, Martika kicked off her sandals, and Nancy did the same. The sand felt powdery fine between her toes, and the air was tangy with salt. The full moon provided plenty of light and turned the waves silver.

“When I had the idea for this place,” Martika said, “nobody believed I could bring it off. ‘You'll never make it,' they said.” She swung around gracefully and spread her arms out wide. “I'll show them all, though. This place is only the beginning for me. A few years from now I'll be the owner of a whole network of resorts all over the world.” She laughed and spun around joyfully. The moonlight made her lovely face glow.

Without warning the model gasped and stopped dead in her tracks about five feet in front of Nancy.

“Something just buzzed by me!” she cried. “Did you feel it?”

“No,” Nancy said, surprised. “What was it?”

“I don't know,” Martika replied. She was searching all around her. “A bat, maybe.”

“Are you sure?” Nancy asked. “I didn't hear anything.”

“It whooshed right by me,” Martika insisted. “How strange.”

Nancy reached into her pocket and took out the flashlight she always carried with her. Shining it at Martika, she took hold of the model's wide sleeve. There was a neat round hole on the inner side, between the elbow and the shoulder.

Nancy put a finger through it. “Was this hole here before?” she asked Martika.

Martika peered down at it. “Why, no,” she said. “But that's right where I felt the whooshing go by. While my arms were over my head, like this.”

Nancy suddenly grabbed Martika by the hand and pulled her away from the water to a spot sheltered by the cliff.

“That hole was not made by a bat, Martika,” she said. “It was made by a bullet. Someone just took a shot at you!”

A
GUNSHOT
?” M
ARTIKA
repeated, clutching Nancy's hand. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Nancy said. “There are two holes in your sleeve, see? An entry hole and an exit hole. Both very neat.”

“But I didn't hear anything, Nancy—only a light whizzing noise.” The model's voice had taken on a pleading quality.

“The gun probably had a silencer on it,” Nancy explained.

Martika's eyes widened and her expression froze, registering her fear.

Nancy did her best to sound soothing, even though she knew that the situation didn't warrant it. “It's okay, Martika. You're all right. But I do need to figure out where the shot could have
been fired from.” Leaving Martika in the shelter of the cliff, Nancy walked toward the water.

“Nancy, don't!” Martika called out anxiously. “What if the person's still up there?”

“I don't think a sniper would stay around once we ducked out of view,” Nancy replied, gazing up toward the top of the cliff. “In fact, he or she must have run off after taking the first shot.”

“Why do you say that?” Martika asked.

“Because we kept standing out there for a minute before we realized what had happened,” Nancy reasoned. “A shooter could have gotten off a second shot easily.”

Scanning the railing above, Nancy caught sight of the gazebo overlooking the far end of the beach. “There,” she said. “That gazebo would have been the perfect spot. Come on, let's go check it out,” she said, heading for the far set of steps. “Martika, does anyone know you take walks down here at night?”

“Everyone on the staff,” Martika said, following Nancy. “They have to know where to find me if I'm needed.”

“That includes Kurt and Derek,” Nancy pointed out. “And I suppose Christina could have found out, too.”

After climbing the steps to the top of the cliff, they entered the gazebo, which was empty. Nancy shone her flashlight beam along the ground. It didn't take her long to find what she was searching
for. “I was right,” she said, picking something up and showing it to Martika.

“What is it?” Martika asked.

“A shell,” Nancy told her. “From a small pistol, I'd guess.” Nancy pocketed the shell and peeked back down at the beach. The view was unobstructed, and the full moon shone brightly. The shot would have been relatively easy for anyone with experience in marksmanship. Martika had been extremely lucky. Nancy wondered if she'd be so lucky the next time.

Martika shuddered. “What do we do now, Nancy?”

“We go back inside,” Nancy said, meeting her gaze squarely. “And you lock yourself in your suite until the police get here.”

At that, something snapped in Martika. “Absolutely not. Nancy, I told you. If I call the police I'll be sabotaging Cloud Nine!” There was an hysterical edge to her voice.

Nancy touched her shoulder gently. Keeping her tone calm but serious, she said, “Whoever did this means business, Martika. I know you don't want to alarm your guests, but you can't risk your life, either.”

“There's got to be another way,” Martika insisted. “Earlier you suggested I get one of the security staff to be with me at all times. How about if we do that? I know I refused before, but it's a better alternative than calling in the police.”

“It won't help against bullets,” Nancy said, shaking her head.

“I know just the person for the job,” Martika went on. “And I'll be careful, I promise, Nancy.” The model hugged herself. “I've just got to keep things calm. Everything's riding on it. Please try to understand.”

“All right,” Nancy said at last, knowing that there was little she could do in the face of Martika's resistance. “But I want you to lock yourself in your suite for the night.”

“I will, definitely,” Martika said with a wan smile. “I guess I am feeling a little shaky.” She laughed nervously and squeezed Nancy's hand. “I feel as though you saved my life,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.