“Mara Philippi. Our boss. She was beat-up, bruises on her face, blood at the corner of her lip—I thought she’d been attacked. I thought whoever was attacking people had attacked her.”
Max knew then. He pulled out his phone and tried to text Kellen. Nothing. He tried to call. No connection.
Destiny continued, “I jumped up and said,Are you okay?and she pointed a gun at me and said,Clean it up. She’s said it before, lots of times, but never with a gun. I was like,Mara, it’s Destiny!She laughed, sort of creaky, and said,That’s for sure.”
Max freed her hands and feet. He gestured toward Xander, unconscious in the closet. “Did she shoot him?”
“No. But she hit him. Xander came in and she told him to clean, too, and he was, he really was. But he was all Xander-like, talking to her about Karma and nonviolence and the way of the Dalai Lama, and she just up and bonked him on the head with the butt of her gun. He fell down and I screamed and I thought she was going to shoot me, but I couldn’t stop screaming.” Destiny wiped her nose on the sleeve of her smock. “Then Mitch came in. He’s so cute—I like him a lot. I thought he was going to save us. But he went right up to Mara and told her Carson Lennex had the statues.”
“The statues?”
“That’s what he said. I don’t know what it means, but he said Carson Lennex had the statues, and as soon as she was in his suite to let Mitch know and Mitch would cut electricity and communications.”
Again Max tried to text and call. Mitch had done as he was told. Communications were down.
While he tried, Destiny babbled, “She…she… Mara told himGood joband to tie us up and stash us in the closet, and she left and he did. He told me if I tried to escape he would kill me.” She huddled on the floor and rubbed her wrists. “My fingers are tingling. I hope he didn’t ruin my hands—I have to work today. I need the money!”
She was in shock. Max threw a blanket around her shoulders. “The resort will reimburse you for lost time. The paramedics will make sure your hands are okay, and Xander, too.” Although how he was going to contact them, he didn’t know. He stood. “Can you let them in?”
Her teeth were chattering, but she nodded. “What’swrongwith Mara?” she asked urgently.
He hurried toward the door. “Mara Philippi is the Librarian.”
“A librarian? No, she’s illiterate.”
He swiveled on his heel.“What?”
Patiently, Destiny explained, “She can’t read.”
“She has to be able to read. She runs a very successful business.”
“She doesn’t tell anybody. I figured it out for myself. She uses the computer accessibility settings as a work-around. She’s got it all worked out.”
“Holy shit.” Somehow, knowing that made Mara, the Librarian, so much creepier. He moved out of the spa and into the stairwell. It was going to have to be a fast run up those eight stories to Carson Lennex’s suite, but he had to make it.
He’d been too late once before. He wouldn’t be too late now.
39
Kellen saw her, Mara Philippi, standing astride Carson Lennex’s bound body, dressed in her mottled black-and-brown fashion hoodie, her hair in a jaunty ponytail and her face… Her face was bruised, battered, swollen. Her blue eyes were angry—and satisfied. She held a cigarette between two fingers, a pistol in both hands, and smoke spiraled into the air.
The Librarian, in person.
On the floor beneath her, a handcuffed Carson Lennex writhed in agony.
Unsurprised, Mara looked up at Kellen. “I’m not surprised he couldn’t kill you.”
In a smooth motion, Kellen fired her gun.
Mara dived to the side, landed on the coffee table.
Kellen followed the motion, fired again, saw Mara jerk sideways as the bullet smacked her shoulder.
Successful strike, but no blood. The hoodie she wore was body armor.
Mara rolled off the table and fired.
The slug hit Kellen right above the heart.