Deadly Fate

Actually, he wasn’t, Thor realized.

“Nearly midnight,” Kimball continued. “Perhaps, with your permission, I can assign rooms to the people here, since—even with my boat and the vessels the Coast Guard can surely supply you—it might now be better for them all to remain in the safety of so many fine officers for the evening. Let them have a few hours of sleep, at the least.”

“We did have the place rented... We thought we might stay tonight. That, of course, was what Natalie wanted to do,” Becca said, her words ending in a sob.

Nate might be an extraordinary fabricator of stage and scene works, but he hadn’t seemed much like the demonstrative type, and he probably wasn’t; he awkwardly patted her shoulder.

“There are eight bedrooms and my master suite,” Kimball said. “And of course, the kitchen room, where Justin and Magda stay. I can’t accommodate all the officers here—”

“The officers are here to be on duty,” Mike interrupted. “We spell one another, and chairs and couches do us just fine.”

“As to the others, I believe it is up to them. We can arrange for the Coast Guard to get everyone back to Seward,” Thor said.

“But, they’re welcome to stay!” Kimball protested.

“I’m glad to stay,” Becca said. “Delighted, really. We have law enforcement here—it’s safe!”

“Whatever,” Tommy said with a shrug.

“Lord, yes!” Ralph said, looking over at Clara, Simon and Larry with excitement.

Clara was silent; she didn’t look at all thrilled.

Simon murmured, “Sure.”

And Larry said, “At this point and this time, yeah.”

“Wonderful!” Kimball said. “I’m assuming that during the day you’ve availed yourself of the kitchen, so you’re aware that the place is always well stocked. There are four rooms to the left of the kitchen and dining area and four beyond my office. Perhaps assign an officer to each hallway? Though I doubt that a cowardly killer would darken a door here, not with so many fine agents of the law in residency.”

His tone and word choice were irritating beyond measure.

But his offer made sense; it was late. They’d been debating themselves the best course of action.

“I gotta say, we’ve been up since the crack of dawn,” Nate said. “I mean...that doesn’t mean anything against what happened to Natalie and Amelia, but...”

“Everyone is exhausted,” Simon said quietly.

“Perfect,” Marc Kimball said. “Please, help yourselves—with the kind agents’ permission, of course—to the rooms. They are all fully stocked with toiletries and robes, and each has its own bath.”

“We did rent the place,” Tommy said. “So...”

“Trust me,” Kimball said, irritation slipping into his voice despite his smile. “My contracts have clauses that give me full control of this property at any time—I believe this situation calls for my breaking any agreement with Wickedly Weird. But, that’s no matter, is it? The police and the federal government are here and I believe we all agree this is best for the remainder of the night. Please. Get some rest. This is terrible, terrible.”

Everyone waited after he spoke. Thor realized they were all looking at him.

And waiting for him to agree.

“At this point, it’s as each individual wishes. If you are all in agreement, then we’ll thank Mr. Kimball for his hospitality. Everyone here does need some rest,” he said. “We’ll make arrangements to get you back to the mainland in the morning.”

“I can take first watch among us,” Jackson murmured.

Thor was too tense to think about sleeping, but Jackson was right. When you were worn-out, you rested. That was the only way you were good to function at full capacity when you were needed.

But he wasn’t ready yet.

“Mike,” Thor said, “there are seven guests here—that leaves a room. Get some sleep on something comfortable. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

Mike nodded.

Thor watched as, beneath Marc Kimball’s gleeful eyes, everyone moved to claim a room for the night.

He realized that Marc Kimball wasn’t just pleased that his suggestion had been taken. He was nearly elated.

And he wasn’t just watching anyone as they chose rooms.

He was watching Clara Avery.

Thor barely knew the woman. Their acquaintance came from the fact that he’d tackled her in the snow. But there was something about her...pride, humor, intelligence—the sense to be afraid? Thor hadn’t realized it at first, but he was intrigued by her.

She was a friend of Jackson’s—that was it.

Either that, or...

It wasn’t that he was so worried about the young woman, it was that he was so annoyed by Kimball.

The man might be richer than a god, but there was definitely something discomfiting about him. As the others walked off, he heard Kimball’s skinny little assistant or secretary ask, “Marc, what about me?”

Marc Kimball didn’t seem to hear her.

“You have a room, little lady,” Ralph told her pleasantly. “We only need three of those on our side. And, heck, we’re theater people. We can sleep anywhere,” he said proudly. Then he asked, “What’s your name, dear?”

“Emmy. Emmy Vincenzo,” she said.

“Nice to meet you,” Ralph told her.

Kimball paid them no heed.

He was still watching Clara Avery as she walked down the hallway. She’d shed her parka and outerwear and wore a soft blue cashmere sweater. Long blond hair tumbled down her back and she moved with grace despite her exhaustion. She was a stunning woman, which Thor had noted before. She turned to look back at him—or maybe she was looking for Jackson. But she caught his eyes and she smiled grimly and nodded, as if grateful to rest now, and do so securely.

She looked like a princess, a fairy-tale princess, a Sleeping Beauty.

The thought sent a jolt of white ice shooting through him.

She wasn’t part of the Wickedly Weird Production Company. She wasn’t the one in real danger here—not from what they had seen so far. It was a stretch for him and Jackson to believe the Fairy Tale Killer might have come here, a complete stretch. This man was out for the reality TV people.

Sleeping Beauty... She would have made a perfect Sleeping Beauty...

He turned away but he saw Jackson watching him. And he knew—just as his old partner knew—that he’d die before anything happened to Clara Avery.