Page 37 of Dead Girl Running

Leo picked up. “What is it?” His voice sounded tired and rough.

“Mr. Di Luca, we have a crisis here at the resort.”

“Do your best to handle it.”

Not the response she expected. “You don’t understand. We found a body. A dead body. A corpse.”

“Youdon’t understand. Annie arrived here and collapsed. She’s got pneumonia. She’s in the hospital on oxygen and she’s in the middle of an arthritic flare-up. She’s suffering, maybe dying.”

Pity and grief caught her around the throat. “Mr. Di Luca, I’m so sorry. What can I do for you? For Annie?”

“Take care of her resort.” He took a rasping breath. “Annie has complete faith in you. I do, too. Whatever decisions you make, I’ll back you one hundred percent. If Annie makes it through the night, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. If not…”

“I’ll pray for her and you and your family.” Kellen meant it with all her heart. She hung up and stared out the window at the vista that had been so glorious three months ago when she had interviewed for this position. Now wind-driven rain splattered against the windows, dark low-hanging clouds blocked the view, and behind all that, the sun was setting, stealing the last vestiges of brief winter light. Kellen could see why Annie had warned her of the difficult Washington winters, of the unending dark and constant rain. Annie…

Sweet Annie. Smart Annie. She had been struggling this morning, saying odd things that meant…nothing, or so Kellen hoped. Annie always put on such a good face, it was easy to forget her age and condition. But not now. Not when death hovered close.

Kellen checked the time. If Lloyd Magnuson had left as soon as they’d finished cleanup, he should be close to Virtue Falls by now, maybe even there, and he needed to know they had ID’d the victim. She called his beloved flip phone. It rang, but he didn’t pick up. She left a message.

Mara rapped on the door frame. “Hey. You busy? Did you bring Annie up-to-date?”

“Leo says she’s ill.”

“My God. What luck. What…timing. In the hospital?”

“Yes, and…” Kellen choked back the words. She could not bring herself to say Annie might not recover. She wouldn’t believe it, and she wouldn’t say it. “We’re going to have to go on as best we can.”

“Sure. We can do this. This might help.” Mara wandered in casually dropping information like Gretel with her pieces of bread. “I wanted you to know. I have a contact at the FBI. I talked to him.”

All of us out here are running away from something.

“Will the FBI show up to investigate?” Which would be a relief, considering the situation.

“Doubt it. They’ll wait for the coroner’s report.” Mara made her way to the model of the resort and looked down at the landscape. “They’ll put the information in their files, and they’ll say Priscilla’s been dead four months and nothing has happened since. If another body pops up, they’ll be here.” Mara shrugged. “That won’t happen, so brief answer—no FBI. They’re overworked, you know.”

“You know an awful lot about the FBI.” A less than subtle inquiry.

“Old boyfriend.” Mara used the sleeve of her hoodie to carefully clean the glass over the model. “Listen, the spa girls are upset, so I had them bunk in the hotel, two to a room. I hope that’s okay.”

“Good idea. I don’t want them driving between Cape Charade and the resort. Let’s keep them here and safe.”

Mara started for the door, then backtracked. “You know, I was thinking. Priscilla’s death happened four months ago, and nothing’s happened since. I think everybody’s overreacting.”

“Yes. Possibly. But we have a killer who apparently threatened her, frightened her, managed to capture her and hold her long enough to kill her and cut off her hands. That’s…vicious. Maybe the sick bastard is gone from here, never to return, but I think this warrants extra caution.”

“Wow. When you put it like that, I agree. If you want, I can find you someone to bunk with, too.”

“No.”Nightmares. Flashbacks.“No, I’m on call all the time now, and I thought being manager was a big job. Being manager and security manager of a resort with a murder is so overwhelming, no one will want to room with me. I’ll be up and down all night long.”

Mara slapped the door frame, turned, and in that bright, snappish way of hers, she said, “Still, you’d sleep better if you weren’t alone.”

“I wouldn’t sleep at all.”For fear I’d scream in terror or cry in pain and grief.

“Your call. But remember, Priscilla lived in your cottage. Still, if no one’s spotted her ghost in four months, I suppose she’s not hanging around.”

“I suppose not.” Kellen watched Mara walk away and was all too bitterly aware of the obvious.

It wasn’t Priscilla’s ghost she needed to worry about.

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