Read The Killing Edge Online

Authors: Heather Graham

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General, #Fiction - Romance, #Suspense, #American Mystery & Suspense Fiction, #Romance - Suspense, #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Murder, #Fiction - General, #Missing persons, #Women psychologists, #Investigation

The Killing Edge (13 page)

“Not at all,” Bill assured him. They pushed off from the dock, and Bill thrummed the motor slowly as they maneuvered through the mangroves and out to the open water. Then he opened the throttle, and they shot across the waves.

It was too loud for conversation, so while Luke sat near Bill at the helm, Chloe perched by the railing and drank in the smell of the sea. She loved boats, loved the salt air and the sea spray.

When she turned a few minutes later to look at the two
men, she was stunned by the expression on Luke’s face. He was frowning intently, clearly disturbed by something Bill had said. That made
her
frown, but when Luke caught her looking at him, he just shook his head to indicate that he would explain later.

They circled the island twice, and she saw that he was paying close attention to the layout—the man-made beach, the docks, the buildings, the mangrove copses and spit of highland where the groundskeepers had actually managed to make flowers grow.

After the second circuit Bill let them off at the docks and promised, “I’ll be waiting.”

“We won’t be long,” Luke assured him.

“No problem. I’ve got a good book, so take your time,” he said.

Chloe hopped out before Luke could help her. They started down the dock together.

“So,” Chloe said, staring at Luke. “What was upsetting you back there?”

“Bill is very protective of his stepmother,” Luke said.

“I know that.”

“But do you know why?”

“Because she’s a sweet woman who really loves his father and the rest of the family?” Chloe suggested.

“Ted Trenton saved Maria.”

“What are you talking about? Saved her from what?”

“She was brought into the United States by a man who bought her from her father in Brazil.”

Chloe was appalled, but she wasn’t shocked. Living in
Miami, with its large South American community, she knew all about the easy sale of children in the streets of Brazil.

“I didn’t know that. You learned all this in ten minutes with the guy?” she asked. She considered herself friends with Maria—and the entire family, but—

Luke had gotten information she’d never even suspected.

“I ask the right questions in the right way,” he said.

“So then what happened?”

“The man who bought her, intending to make her his bride, was a religious fanatic.”

“Oh?”

Luke looked at her grimly. “Maria escaped from the man. Ted Trenton found her running down the street, terrified, and he believed her when she said she was trying to get away before she could be forced into marriage. She said the man who had purchased her in Brazil belonged to a cult in Miami. A group known as the Church of the Real People.”

SEVEN

T
here was a security shed, a little larger than an old phone booth, at the end of the docks. Chloe was still looking shell-shocked as they neared it.

Luke took her hand.

“Smile,” he said. “You don’t want to look suspicious, do you?”

She smiled as the guard stepped from the air-conditioned shack. His shirt read Dockmaster, Frank Little.

Frank Little was anything but little, however. He was a good six-three and built like a bulldozer.

“Hi, Frank,” Chloe said.

“Chloe Marin, great to see you. Rumor has it you’re one of the models for the upcoming shoot,” Frank said.

Luke noted that Frank was armed. He wondered if that
had always been the case, or whether it was something new since Colleen’s disappearance.

Frank looked like a good guy, but looks could be deceiving.

“That’s what they tell me, Frank. And this is—”

“Jack Smith.” Luke offered Frank a hand.

“Nice to meet you. You’re kind of late to see much of anything, but we have some golf carts that will let you take a quick look around the island. You’ll want to check out the hotel and bungalows. And you’re scouting locations—they’ve done a lot of work over by the mangroves. The girls stand on the roots, half in the water. Jeanne—have you met her? She got bit by a crab once, and she wasn’t happy, I can tell you that, but she was laughing as hard as anyone else that night. Then there’s the beach, of course, with lots of palms aplenty and some nice dunes. Anyway, the golf carts are over there. They’ve all got push-button start, so help yourselves.”

“Thanks, Frank,” Chloe said.

“Yes, thanks, and nice to meet you,” Luke told him.

“Same here,” Frank said pleasantly.

Frank went back to sit in his air-conditioning, and Luke and Chloe headed over to the row of golf carts. She barely seemed aware of him. Well, he had just blindsided her with his news.

But once they were far enough away that Frank couldn’t possibly overhear them, she spun on him. “Why didn’t I know that?” she asked.

“When you’re married to a woman who was sold as a
teenage ‘bride,’ aka prostitute, you don’t usually bring it up at the dinner table.”

“No, I guess not, but…I’ve known the whole family for years. They never said a word to me, but Bill just came out and told
you
. A stranger. A guy he’d never met before today.” She shook her head, obviously both confused and hurt. “How did Ted get the paperwork to make her legal? I don’t get it. This is huge, and Bill told
you!

“Chloe, I pretty much asked him point-blank how his father and Maria met, and I commented on how well everyone seems to get along.”

Chloe shook her head again. “I’m still stunned that none of them ever said anything to me. I mean, most people know that Victoria and Brad and Jared and I were nearly killed by the Church of the Real People.”

“Maybe that’s why they kept her past a secret, especially from you. Maybe they didn’t want to bring up the past and upset either one of you.”

Chloe said, “It’s just so bizarre.” She stared at him, those incredible lime-green eyes wide with confusion. “After those men were found dead in the Everglades, it seemed like the cult pretty much died, too. The members all quit. They didn’t want to be associated with any religious sect that would slaughter children. So how could—”

“Don’t kid yourself. The Church of the Real People is alive and well and doing business in Miami,” Luke told her. “They are, as a matter of fact, having a potluck dinner on Thursday night.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Chloe said in disgust.

“I’m not, I’m sorry to say.” He paused for a moment before going on. “Cults like the Real People feed on the pain and weaknesses of others. All they need is a leader who can control people with his smooth words and charisma. You’re a psychologist. You know how that works. The Real People might have hidden in the woodwork for a few years, but I don’t think they ever went away.”

“You know, their elders—priests, whatever!—spoke to the police after the murders. They claimed that the men who were found in the Everglades weren’t acting in the name of the church. They tried to whitewash everything. But now you’re telling me that someone I know, someone I thought of as a friend, rescued his wife from a member of that same cult that was basically practicing slavery.”

Chloe was outraged, but he wondered if her anger wasn’t really a cover for her fear. She hadn’t believed everything she’d been told over the years, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried to hear that the Church of the Real People was still active—both on and under the radar.

“Poor Maria,” Chloe said.

“Maria seems to be a very happy woman right now,” Luke pointed out. “But…”

“But what?”

“But it bothers me to know that there’s an association between the Church of the Real People and this island.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Chloe protested. “The agency has been around for almost fifty years, and they’ve owned this island for at least thirty. I think the Coco-lime Resort has been around for about thirty years, too, but Ted’s only had
it about fifteen, and he’s only been married to Maria for five. There can’t be a connection. It has to be coincidence.”

“I’m not a big believer in coincidence,” he said as they got in the golf cart and started along the path.

“But if there was some connection, wouldn’t someone have tried to hurt Maria by now, or bring her back into the fold or whatever? When Ted found her, didn’t they try to go after the man?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because she might have wound up being deported to Brazil, and maybe sold all over again.”

Chloe fell silent, and when Luke set his free hand over hers and squeezed, she didn’t try to pull away.

“All you all right?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she said. “I’m just upset about Maria. And…confused, I guess. Or surprised. Taken aback. Whatever. But I’m fine. And we’re here because of Colleen Rodriguez. We should be concentrating on what happened to her.”

“We are still concentrating on Colleen,” he assured her, then threw out an arm as if to encompass the entire island. “This just isn’t a very encouraging scenario for discovering the truth.”

It was true. The opportunities for foul play seemed endless. The island wasn’t large, just a little over five square miles, but scrub pines and dense foliage were abundant between the hotel and the haphazardly scattered bungalows. If Colleen Rodriguez had been murdered, there were plenty of places where it could have happened without anyone
noticing before her body was dumped far out at sea. Depending on how clever her killer had been, her body could still surface, though. The Gulf Stream might cast her back to shore. On the other hand, if she had been weighted down and dumped in deep water, her fate might never be known.

“So they shoot all over the island?” Luke asked Chloe.

“What?”

“Photos. They shoot photos all over the island?”

Chloe nodded. “Waterfalls seem to be a big thing. There’s a natural one, and the pool at the hotel has one, too. It’s really pretty. There’s a bar in the center of the pool, with another bar on top of that, and the water flows down over them. They shoot all over in and around the hotel, actually.”

“Let’s go see the hotel, then,” Luke said.

The path took them all the way around the island on their way to the hotel. He counted eight freestanding bungalows and two bigger buildings that appeared to be apartments, all built on pilings. They were a fair distance from the hotel, hidden by the trees. Most likely staff quarters, he thought as he pulled up in the circular driveway in front of the hotel. A manager in a crisp white uniform came down the steps to greet them.

“Hey, Bert,” Chloe said.

“Miss Marin, how nice to see you.” He looked more pleased than was strictly necessary, and Luke put him down as something of a sycophant. “Mr. Smith, I presume?” the man said, turning to Luke. “Frank let me know you’d be stopping by. I’m Bert Ackerman,” he said, stepping forward to pump Luke’s hand. “I understand you’ve been surveying our humble facility.”

“It’s quite a place,” Luke said.

“Yes, we’re very proud of it. But come in, come in…Will you be staying here tonight?”

“No,” Chloe answered. “Maria talked us into staying over there.”

She seemed to have recovered from her shock at Maria Trenton’s background. But then, he’d noticed what a strong woman she was their first meeting. And not just mentally and emotionally strong, either.

She was adept at self-defense, too.

But someone else could always be bigger, stronger, better trained—or carrying a knife or a gun.

Maybe he shouldn’t have told her about Maria. No, the time for secrets between them was over. He needed to be truthful, needed to trust her and have her trust him in return.

Right now she was doing an impeccable job of playing the part of a flirty model. She took Luke’s hand and spoke almost apologetically. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to give Jack a little tour.”

“Absolutely,” Bert agreed. He was a good-looking man, with sandy-blond hair, bronze skin, lean and fit, about thirty-five. He had probably been hand selected to run a resort intended only for some of the most beautiful people in the world—literally.

Just beyond the entry door, huge freestanding sheets of glass, with water cascading down them like an indoor waterfall, protected the lobby and check-in facilities from the heat and sun of the outdoors. The lobby itself was filled with sofas and daybeds and richly upholstered wingback
chairs, low tables and several desks set discreetly against the walls, waiting to serve visitors.

Guests did not stand in line here.

Chloe pointed out the winding stairs that led to the restaurant, and another set that led outside to a patio.

Bert had attached himself to them, proudly listing the available services, ending with homemade ice cream. “Nothing better on a hot summer day. We have the real thing, along with sugar-free and fat-free, and sorbet for the girls. Except,” he added, winking at Chloe, “on the last day. Then everyone wants a hot-fudge sundae. Mojito bar right over there. Of course, we serve lots more than mojitos. We’ve got everything, including mineral water for the girls. Except on the last day—”

“When we all drink whatever we want,” Chloe said, and smiled.

It wasn’t a genuine smile, though. She disliked this man intensely, Luke thought. Maybe that meant something. Maybe he was just a player who came on constantly to the models. Or maybe he was a murderer.

“Mind if I see a few of the rooms?” Luke asked.

“Sure, this way,” Bert said. “The deluxe accommodations are on the south side and have balconies with a view of the water or lanais that lead out to the gardens.”

They walked past the ice-cream bar and the pool, and down a winding limestone path, which brought them to an archway that led to a series of doors that opened poolside. Bert opened one, revealing what was really a small apartment. These units, he explained, had living and dining
rooms, and kitchenettes, as well as one or two bedrooms apiece. Each also had a sliding glass door at the back that opened out to a tangle of gardens.

He led the way, opening the back door and stepping onto a small patio shaded by the balcony of the room above. A tiled walk led from the patio out to the gardens, wild gardens that fit the tropical setting. Bougainvillea draped over low brick walls, hibiscus bushes grew in abundance, and pines and palms mingled together, providing shade and support for hammocks just made for relaxing.

“Beautiful,” Luke said.

“And do you see how perfectly the light falls?” Bert asked.

“I’ll let my photographer find the light,” Luke said. “I just take a hand in picking the settings I think will show off my designs to their best advantage.” He looked around for a moment, then pointed and asked, “If you were to follow that line of trees right here, where would you end up?”

“Eventually? In the mangroves, and then the Atlantic,” Bert replied with a look that said he didn’t see the point of the question.

“There are no more buildings out that way?” Luke asked. “No docks?”

“No,” Bert said, still looking puzzled by the direction the conversation had taken.

Luke hardly noticed, though, too busy considering the fact that the area was overgrown, tangled and led straight to the water. No docks. Still, if Colleen had been killed and left in the mangroves, she should have been found. Stuckey had told him that there’d been an extensive search.

Suddenly realizing that Bert was waiting for him to say something, Luke said, “Sorry. I was just considering the possibilities.”

“Not too much back that way, like I told you,” Bert said. “The mangroves make a good setting, like I told you, but there’s no dock and no beach.”

“Lots of mosquitoes, though,” Chloe said with a grin.

“Don’t worry about getting bitten,” Bert said. “We spray—eco-friendly, of course—around the hotel and the bungalows, but you can’t really get the mosquitoes out of a swamp.”

“Of course not,” Luke agreed. “Well, we’ll see…”

“Thanks for the tour, Bert. But we should be getting back,” Chloe said.

“Yes, we’re supposed to get to a barbecue,” Luke said. “Thank you for taking the time.”

“I’m always delighted to show the place,” Bert said.

He locked the door to the patio, and they left by way of the front door, walking back along the tile path and past the pool.

They said goodbye in the lobby, where Bert promised Luke that he couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like once more people were here for the season.

“But there are people here now, right?” Luke asked.

“Of course. The staff, and a few residents who’ve retired from the business,” Bert said.

“And the only access is by boat?” Luke asked.

“Actually, there’s a spot in the middle of the island where a helicopter can land. In case of emergency, it’s good to have,” Bert said.

Luke nodded, offered his hand and thanked the man
again, then said, “I think we’ll make another loop around the island before we leave. I mean, if that’s okay?”

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