My Killer Vacation — Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Taylor

eird how I’ll cry over an Allstate commercial orW two senior citizens holding hands, but right now, when my heart hurts worse with every pound, I can’t eke out a tear.

I’m sitting on the beach in a sweatshirt and bare feet, arms wrapped around my raised knees. We came down here after letting the men in to replace the broken window in the back bedroom and simply never left. Now there is a magnificent sunset painting the sky with pinks and grays and I want to enjoy the beauty, but I’m too numb. It helps to have Jude sitting beside me, not talking, just occasionally rubbing a circle on my back or showing me a pretty shell. I want to ask him what happened with Dante, who was gone by the time I returned home, but if I open my mouth, I think I’ll just start shouting about pigheaded men and never stop.

“It hurts now. Feels like it’ll never stop,” Jude says quietly. “But it’ll get easier to ignore. One day you’ll be able to convince yourself it never happened.”

It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, but I don’t have the heart to point that out. So I just nod.

Stupid bounty hunter with his secret soft center and tortured past. I fell for it. Leave it to the teacher to fall for the textbook temptation to fix a man. To incorrectly believe, somewhere deep down in my heart, that he wouldn’t be able to walk away. That was nothing but a bad assumption.

I’m just a Bond Girl in a long line of Bond Girls. He’ll look back on me in fifteen years, squint his eyes and say,oh yeah, the one who liked grandma ice cream.

And I’ll probably have a family and be settled down.

“Settled down,” I murmur. “But I’m not going tosettle.”

Jude raises an eyebrow at me. “Huh?”

“Well.” I wet my lips, grateful to be talking and thinking about something other than Myles. “You know I’ve been dating men who have a serious eye toward marriage. But I don’t think I’m going to do that anymore. I think maybe…I just want to live and see what happens.” Saying that out loud loosens a little bit of the pressure in my chest. “I don’t have to be practical and play it safe, just because I’ve always been told that’s who I am. I’m whoI decide to be, you know? I can play it safe in some aspects of my life, but in others, maybe I just want to help catch a murderer or have a fling with a bounty hunter. I’m more than one thing.

I decide my own course. Nobody else.”

Jude is nodding along with me. “You’re damn right.”

I pick up a handful of sand and throw it. “Shoot. I didn’t mean to bring him up. I don’t want to talk about him.”

“We don’t have to.”

“But since we’re on the subject, I hope his long hair gets

stuck in a toaster.”

“Savage.”

“I mean, not in a way that he gets electrocuted,” I rush to clarify. “Just in a way that is inconvenient and

embarrassing.”

“I’ll see what can be arranged.”

“Maybe I should look at this whole torrid affair as a positive thing. He shook me up. Make me realize what I need to be…to feel. To feel. And now I’m determined to expect more out of my future real,functioning relationships.”

“Gratitude is a healthy way to approach anything.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Gratitude is a little bit of an overstatement. Maybe once the hostility fades.” We share a laugh and I reach over to squeeze his hand. “Are you all right?”

He blows a long breath out at the ocean. “No. But I will be.”

We sit in silence for several minutes, watching the sky turn from pink to orange to cerulean and finally, midnight blue. Stars wink to life on the canvas of the sky, the brush blowing behind us on the hill. Laughter reaches us from backyards up and down the beach, fire pits glowing and barbeques smoking.

I’m unsettled—and I know it’s because of Myles. The way things ended. The way everything feels so woefully

unfinished. I miss his big, grouchy ass. But there’s more.

There’s a little niggling sensation buried in the nape of my neck that won’t quit. I tell myself the itch comes with the territory of being hit over the head with an encyclopedia, having the best sex of my life and catching a murderer all in one day…but the worry just keeps churning. Eventually it moves to my stomach. I’m getting ready to voice my— probably—unfounded concerns to my brother when a wind rolls off the turbulent Atlantic and lifts the hair off my neck, making me shiver.

“Hey, I’ll go grab us some blankets and beers from the house. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.” I fall back onto my elbows, watching him plod through the sand toward the stairs. “Hey, can you bring my phone down? I left it charging in the kitchen.”

“Yup.”

After a few minutes, I let myself melt back completely onto the sand, not caring if it gets in my hair or into my clothing. It’s cooled down from the day’s sunshine and from here, I can look up at the gigantic sky above. Me and my

problems are miniscule compared to it—

There’s a metallic click behind me.

It’s a gun being cocked.

My muscles tense up, my mouth going dry, but I don’t move. I’m frozen.

“You’re pretty relaxed for someone who goes around ruining lives.”

I know that voice, but it’s not overly familiar. Belonging

to a young man.

Where have I heard it before?

Footsteps approach, then I’m kicked in the ribs. Not hard, but forceful enough to make me cry out. Hand pressing to the throbbing spot, I sit up and scramble backward awkwardly on my elbows, heels shoving at the

sifting sand.

The man comes into view.

The mayor’s assistant. Kyle?

No.Kurt.

Kurt is pointing a gun at me—and of course this is the moment everything clicks into place. Very convenient.

The assistant just barely tops five feet. Everything has happened so fast since this afternoon, I haven’t stopped to review all of the evidence and reconcile it with the mayor’s guilt. But of course Kurt was involved. He’s always at her side, ready to serve. He would have spied on Oscar for her, easily fitting into that area behind the bedroom wall.

“Piecing it all together? Took you long enough. Maybe you and your boyfriend aren’t as smart as you think you

are.”

Myles.

He’s going to flip out.

For some reason, that’s really comforting.

Or it will be, if I don’t die.

He’s also going to be so hard on himself when he realizes this oversight. Who could have seen it coming, though? Rhonda didn’t implicate Kurt at the scene. She

only denied her own guilt.

Wake up. Think.

Hostages usually survive by keeping their captor talking.

Personalizing themselves. I’m not technically a hostage—

yet?—but the same logic should still apply, right? Although, if I keep Kurt talking and Jude comes back, my brother will

be in danger, too.

No, I can’t have that.

My pulse is almost deafening in my temples, but I force

a deep breath.

“Did she know?”

“Who?”

“Rhonda. The mayor. Did she know you were spying on Oscar?”

“No,” he spits, as if I’m an idiot for asking. “Do you think Iwanted to watch a live feed of that sad sack while he bingedBake Off all day? I didn’t. Although it was better than keeping tabs on him from the closet.” He shivers.

“Oscar Stanley. What an idiot. Did he really think Rhonda wasactually going to pass any laws to restrict him from renting? She was telling people what they wanted to hear to secure reelection. That’s what we do. We stay in office at all costs. And it’s my job to make sure the mayor doesn’t have to worry about the details. That’s what makes me the best. After one more term as mayor of this middle-class hell hole, she was going to run for state senate and I would have been right there, indispensable. No one overlooking me, like I’m nothing but an inconsequential flea.”

“You’re not inconsequential.”

“Don’t pander to me.” He jabs the air with the muzzle of the gun. “The cops would have pursued that meathead father who kicked Oscar’s ass. He probably would have been found innocent. But by then, everyone would have forgotten about the murder of a man no one knew. The

Barnstable police wouldn’t have been motivated to dig and ruin a good thing with Rhonda. But you had to poke. And prod. And you didn’t take my warnings, did you?”

Slowly, I inch sideways, hoping he’ll turn in the same clockwise motion so his back will be to the stairwell. “You clocked me with the book. You threw the buoy.”

His finger moves on the trigger. “Should have just shot

you and gotten it over with.”

“You’re going to get caught.”

“Oh, I know I’m going to be caught. The cops are already bringing me in for questioning. Rhonda is putting it all together, I’m sure. And will she appreciate what I did for her? To keep her double life out of the press? No. I’m sure she’ll act horrified on the evening news. But if she found out what I did and I never got caught? She wouldn’t have said shit. Because that’s politics.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jude coming down the

stairs.

No.No.

It’s clear there isn’t going to be any reasoning with Kurt.

He’s got nothing to lose.

I suck in as much air as I can and scream for everything I’m worth. “Jude! Run!”

Myles

I

t’s my nightmare come to life.

I didn’t resolve a piece of evidence and now theI woman I’ve fallen for could pay the price.

My bike is moving so fast down Coriander Lane, the tires are barely meeting the asphalt. Sweat pours down the side of my face, a pit yawning open in my stomach. None of the lights are on in the house when I park outside. Please tell me they went out to dinner or somewhere the assistant hasn’t located them yet. Kurt. Kurt Forsythe. I had his last name confirmed by the Barnstable police, who I called on the way here. I only recall the conversation in snippets.

Could barely hear the chief’s voice over the roaring in my ears. After what Wright confided to us about the police potentially looking the other way with the mayor, part of me wanted to come alone, but I had to weigh the risks—and the risk I absolutely cannot take is with Taylor’s life.

House door locked.

A quick glance in through the front window shows no signs of life— There’s a movement to my right, in the distance.

Someone on the stairs leading down to the beach. “Please be Taylor. Please be them.”

I lunge off the porch and jog in the direction of the figure. Hard to make out who it is now that the sun is down. But when I’m about fifty yards away, I recognize the hair, the build. Jude. And immediately, I know something is wrong. Very wrong. His hands are up and he’s shaking his head. That’s when I hear Taylor’s hoarse scream and my

legs almost liquify.

“Jude! Go! Please!”

“What the fuck is going on? Who is that?” Jude’s tone is

laced with fear. “Put the gun down!”

Gun. Taylor. There’s a gun on Taylor.

My skin is nothing but a sheet of ice, heart lurching and

racing.

No. No, please God, no. Not her.

Focus. You have to focus.

Number one. If there is a gun down on the beach, Jude is in harm’s way, too.

“Jude,” I growl, not recognizing my own voice.

His head whips around and his horror-filled expression threatens to derail whatever composure I have—and it’s not much.

“Myles.” He turns awkwardly and trips over the step behind him. “There’s a guy down there pointing a gun at Taylor.”

My icy skin thaws rapidly and now I’m hot. Piping hot.

Chest burning. No.No, no, no. A memory of Taylor inviting me for tacos catches me off guard and a rough sound escapes. She’d want me to get her brother somewhere safe.

“Jude. Come here. You need to come here now and let me handle this. The police are on the way.”

He’s incredulous. “I’m not leaving her down there!”

“We are not leaving her down there. Of course we’re not. But if she thinks you’re in danger, she might do something erratic and get herself hurt.”

Jude curses and swipes at his eyes. “He’s going to shoot her.”

Hold on. Hold on to your control. “Is he on the shorter side? Glasses?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

“Okay. You’re going to trade places with me, all right?

I’m going to speak to him.”

The static in my head is so loud, when I finally hear the sirens approaching, I have no idea how long they’ve been wailing. But they’re close. Very close.

“Jude!Go!” Taylor hollers from the beach again, her scream mingling with the crashing waves. “Please!”

It’s hard. It’s hard to think in logical terms when she’s in danger. When she sounds so scared that my heart wants to tear through my chest. My instinct when it comes to Taylor and her safety is animalistic. I want to hop the stair railing and hurtle down the hill at full speed and plow down everything standing between me and her. But impulsive behavior gets people killed. I need to be calm right now

andthink.

What do I know?

One, Kurt obviously doesn’t care if he gets caught.

There are countless houses positioned along the beach, all of them facing the water and the sun has barely gone down. People are awake. Roasting hot dogs. Likely watching this whole scene unfold and probably calling the police. Not to mention, Jude has seen him holding a gun on Taylor. Kurt is potentially unbalanced. He’s not going to act reasonably.

Two, Kurt’s motive is revenge. We arrested his boss.

Cost him his job. One or both of them is going to be charged with the murder of Oscar Stanley—depending on Rhonda’s knowledge of Kurt’s actions. But I was present when the police questioned Rhonda Robinson—and unless

she’s the world’s greatest actress, she doesn’t know what Kurt did to prevent Evergreen Corp. from being exposed.

Out of loyalty.

Loyalty to the mayor.

Dedication.

I can use that.

My hands are shaking as I punch out a quick text to Wright, shoving my phone quickly into my back pocket once again. “Back up slowly, Jude,” I say, trying to sound reassuring, even though my heart is in my mouth. “We’re going to get Taylor back safely. You know I’m going to do everything I can to make that happen.”

Jude hesitates for another few seconds, then finally crawls up the remaining stairs, sitting on the grass landing with his head in his hands. Red and white lights flash at the bottom of the hill. Finally. Sirens turned off, as instructed, they race up the street and pull to a stop at haphazard angles. Wright climbs out of his vehicle first and jogs over to me, handing over the bullhorn and a phone, a call live on the screen, seconds ticking upward.

With those tools in hand, I move toward the staircase, praying like hell my appearance doesn’t set Kurt off. Or induce him to pull the trigger. If he’s going after Taylor, it’s because of her role in the investigation. I was involved, too, more heavily than she was. He’s seen us together. He picked the only one of us he could bully, but I wouldn’t put it past him to use violence against Taylor to pay me back for my role in the case. He doesn’t have an earthly clue how much it would ruin me, though. My fucking heart would stop beating.

I could let the police chief run point on this, but I can’t put her safety in someone else’s hands. I won’t do it.

Especially when there is a chance they were planning on covering for the mayor and therefore might be operating in a morally gray area.

I take another several steps and they come into view.

Kurt. Taylor. The gun. My stomach lurches violently at the sight of my Taylor with her hands up, trembling. I can tell she’s trembling from here. She looks so fragile from this distance and I’m going to kill this motherfucker. I’m going to kill him. Scalding hot rage starts to bleed into my thoughts, blur them together, but I fight to remain calm.

Composed. Thinking clearly. Taylor is at stake.

Our life together is at stake.

Did I really think I could just walkaway from her?

I would sell my soul to the devil to be holding her right now. To hold her forever.

“Kurt,” I call, as evenly as possible. “This is Myles Sumner. Do you know me?”

He takes a step closer to Taylor, as if he means to grab her, use her as a shield, and she lurches backward, out of his reach. Good girl. She can see what I see. That despite being a murderer, he’s not confident holding a gun. He can barely hold it up at this stage. He’s using his opposite hand to brace his elbow.

“Of course I know you,” he shouts up the stairs. “I know everything that happens here. It’s my job. I’m good at my job.”

This is what I was hoping for. Pride in his work.

Dedication to the job and loyalty to Rhonda Robinson. “Is

Taylor all right?”

“She won’t be for much longer. I was just waiting for

you. I wanted you to see this.”

My throat closes in.

This is how he’s going to come for me. A fight between us would be a mismatch, but he can knock me out in a death blow by pulling that trigger. “You don’t want to hurt Taylor.” I’m all but gasping for air when I say that, so I take a moment to regain control. “You’re not a killer, Kurt. Just a man who goes above and beyond for his job.”

“I’m not buying your attempts at psychology.”

“That’s fine, man. But the mayor needs to speak with you.”

“What?” He lowers the gun in surprise, but raises it back up just as quickly. “She’s not here. She’s in custody.”

But he’s splitting his attention now between me and Taylor. Good.

Just have to keep chipping away until it’s all on me and she can escape.

I bring the phone to my ear. “Mayor Robinson?” I say into the receiver.

“Yes,” she responds, briskly, but with an underlying weariness. “I didn’t know about Kurt. I didn’t know—”

“You were briefed by Wright?” I cut in.

She sighs. “I was, yes.”

“Good.” I swallow hard, inhaling and exhaling through a wave of dizziness. “Please. I need you to talk him down.

He’s holding a gun on my girlfriend. If something happens to her…”

“I understand. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt over this. Put me on.”

The sudden confidence in her tone doesn’t make me feel better. Nothing is going to make me feel better until Taylor is out of the line of fire. Praying to a maker who I haven’t spoken to in a very long time, I hold the phone up to the bullhorn.

Rhonda’s voice carries down to the beach, accompanied by an opening squeal of feedback. “Kurt?”

The assistant’s head whips around. “Mayor?”

She can’t hear his response. Not yet, anyway. But she continues as if he’s listening. “I knew the day I hired you that it was one of the best decisions I ever made. And you have never let me down. Not once. There is no one on my staff that I trust more. No one that believes in my vision for this county and has the tools to help me execute it.”

“I had to do it!” he calls back, thinking Rhonda can hear him. “Stanley would have killed our chance at being reelected.”

I drop the phone away from the bullhorn, bringing the speaker to my mouth. “Kurt, the mayor has some things she would like to say to you in private. For your ears alone. Are you okay with me bringing down the phone?”

I hold my breath.Come on.

He’s torn. His attention shifts from the staircase to Taylor, back to me. “Leave your weapons up there. All of them. Or I’ll fucking shoot her, I swear to God.”

No.

Not going to let that happen, sweetheart. Have faith in me.

“Okay.” I set down the bullhorn and the phone, taking my gun out of my waistband and putting it on the ground. I lift both of my pant legs to show him I have nothing. “I’m unarmed, all right? I’m coming down.”

This guy might be book smart or politically savvy, but he’s an idiot to let me come within ten feet of him. I just have to hope he doesn’t realize that as I get closer. Holding up the phone like a peace offering, I travel down the steps slowly, heart ricocheting in my ribcage. Kurt is not stable.

The closer I get, the more obvious that becomes. He’s muttering to himself. Every once in a while, he punctuates the air between him and Taylor with the muzzle of the gun, as if to remind her who is in charge. The tide could turn at

any second.

Please just let me make it over there.

“Are you ready to speak to the mayor, Kurt?”

“Toss me the phone.”

I’m down on the beach now. It’s high tide, so I’m only about twenty yards from where they stand and I’m continuing to inch forward slowly, over the crunching seaweed and pebbles. “You’re pretty close to the water, man. I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”Breathe. Breathe.

She’s right there. Don’t think about how terrified she looks or you’ll lose it. “How about this? You let Taylor head back up the stairs and point the gun at me, instead. That way I can come over there and hand you the phone safely.”

“No. No way. I don’t know.”

“The mayor told me you would never hurt an innocent woman. She’s right, Kurt. I know she’s right. And she has a lot more to tell you. Let’s just let Taylor go home.”

“Myles,” she whimpers, shaking her head.

“It’s okay,” I rasp. I can’t look at her. I can’t look at her, even to reassure her. There’s still a gun pointed at her and I’m not good. The longer it’s trained on her, the more rapidly my sanity deteriorates. “Kurt?”

When he points the gun at me, I’m nearly felled with

relief. “Go, Taylor.”

She hesitates.

“Go.Please.”

With a sob, she starts to run. Thank God.Thank God. I don’t move a single step until I hear her footsteps fade on the wooden planks of the stairs. Until I hear Jude’s exclamation and the flurry of police movement. Safe. She’s safe.

I hold out the phone in my right hand, the palm of my left hand visible.

One step, two, my boots sinking into the sand.

“We found the same gun on the beach,” I say, nodding at his Glock, which he is struggling to keep aloft. “Did you plant it to delay the investigation or throw us off your

trail?”

He’s staring at the phone. “Both.”

“Well played.”

“Don’t humor me,” he hisses through his teeth. “Give me the phone.”

I nod evenly, edging forward another step. Two. “Here you go. It’s all yours.”

He’s so eager to speak with his boss and absorb more of her false praise for what he’s done that he’s distracted for a split second. But that’s all I need. I toss the phone up in the

air and his attention goes with it. My left hand clamps around the wrist of the hand holding the gun, angling it toward the ocean. It goes off. A bullet fired into the black water where it will hit no one. Especially not Taylor.

The reminder that this man meant to kill her causes me to subdue him with a harder punch than intended, the crunch of cartilage not nearly enough. Nothing will ever be enough. But that’s all it takes for him to go down in a heap on the sand, the phone landing beside his outstretched hand. I remove the clip from his gun and toss it down, too, my adrenaline crashing with a vengeance. From all sides. I see Taylor flying down the stairs in my direction, but I’m shaking my head, not quite ready to declare the beach danger free for her.

She keeps coming, though, leaping, our chests colliding, her arms wrapping around my neck. I’m still so numb with the fear of potentially losing her that I can’t even pick up my arms to hug her back. For long moments, all I can do is breathe in the scent of apples, rubbing my face in her hair, until finally my limbs start to work again and I crush her tight to my body, overcome by the fact that she’s alive.

She’s alive and she’s not hurt.

“Taylor.”

“I know. I know.”

“Taylor.”

She kisses my cheek, my jaw. “I know.”

I’m trying to process out loud the fact that I almost lost her, but she seems to understand without words. She seems to know it would have killed me. Good. Good, we’ll work out the rest. Everything else is details as long as she’s

alive. I’m surrounded by police officers now who want statements. They are trying to rouse Kurt on the sand and he’s stirring. There’s no way in hell I’m trusting anyone but myself to cuff him and bring him to jail. This man was going to kill the incredible woman I’m holding in my arms. This woman who trusted me to keep her safe.My woman. I’m seeing this through. “Give them your statement,” I say, kissing her temple. “I won’t be able to relax until he’s locked up and he probably needs medical attention first.”

Her lips twitch. “Thanks to you.”

I tuck some windblown strands of hair behind her ear.

“He had a gun pointed at you. He’s lucky he doesn’t need a

coroner.”

She smiles at me, but something is off.

Why does she seem…sad?

Her arms drop from their position around my neck, her hands sliding into the rear pockets of her shorts. “Thank you. For what you did. Trading places with me and…all of

it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

After a second, she nods. “I know. You were doing your job.”

What the hell? “You’re more than a job.”

She nods, as if she was expecting me to say that. But I don’t really think she understands. I need to spell this out for her. “Taylor, I’m—”

“Sumner!” Wright shouts. “The chief has some questions —”

“In a minute!” I bark over my shoulder, before facing Taylor again. “Hey. Listen to what I’m telling you. Even

when I thought we had this case solved, I couldn’t leave. I want to do this. Us. I need to be with you. Do you hear me?

I’m done running. I want to run to you.”

“Wow,” Wright says to my left. “That’s poetic, man.” He sniffs. “Ah shit. I need to call my ex-wife.”

“Walk away,” I grit out.

“Sorry. Sorry.”

When we’re alone again, Taylor still looks sort of resigned and Christ, I’m starting to panic. “You feel this way right now, Myles, because we just went through something scary together.” She squeezes my arm. “But tomorrow or the next day you’ll remember all the reasons you told me this wouldn’t work and you’ll be right—”

“No. I was a fucking moron, Taylor. I said that shit out of anger and fear.”

Isn’t this supposed to be the happy ending? Guy saves girl, guy kisses girl and they ride off into the sunset? The girl isn’t supposed to saynah, thanks, I’m good.

This isn’t happening.

“I was supposed to come here. I was supposed to meet you. The road was leading mehere. To you. All right?” Here we go. The final wall has collapsed. I’m exposed. “You made me remember I love Boston. Because you reminded me of what home feels like. You made me call my brother.

Because you made me remember what love feels like. You did that. I’m not walking away from you. We’re going to fight until we meet in the middle, Taylor. End of story.

You’re not cutting me off. I’m taking you home to meet my family. I’m doing the whole fucking thing, all right?” I clasp

the sides of her face in my hands. “Please let me do the

whole thing?”

Everyone is listening.

There is a crowd of officers and detectives hanging on my every word. I’m pretty sure even Kurt is invested and the mayor is still listening on the other end of the line. Ask me if I care. Ask me if I care when I’m performing my own open-heart surgery and this women who I can’t live without still looks dubious. “You’ve moved on, in your head. I can see that.” It guts me to acknowledge that out loud. “You’ve written me off. Okay. Tell me you feel something for me and I’ll write myself back in. I’ll bust my ass doing it.”

“Of course I feel something for you,” she whispers.

Our audience lets out a collective sigh of relief.

Nothing compared to mine. It’s like I just made it from the ocean floor to the surface.

“Thank God,” I say on a rocky exhale, leaning down to kiss her. But her eyes are still cloudy. She needs more than words. I’ve spent our entire acquaintance telling her I commit to nothing and no one. Actions are the only thing

that will convince her.

Done.

I’m in it for keeps—and she’s not going to doubt me for long.