In Too Deep (27 page)

"I am so glad to see you," Tally lied cheerfully, mouth as arid as the sand behind her. She hoped to God that Arnaud wouldn't notice the rapid pulse beating at the base of her throat. "We—I thought you'd drowned. Where on earth have you been?" She kept her tone light with effort. Given more than two seconds to think about it, chasing after Arnaud had not been the brightest idea in the world.

For a mad few hours, way back in the mists of time, she'd thought Arnaud Bouchard's Nordic good looks and slight French accent the sexiest thing since sliced bread. Until she remembered that she hated white bread, sliced or otherwise. They'd slept with each other for almost the same reason: to stay in Trevor Church's orbit. Each thought a relationship between them would cement their places. In fact, Arnaud had
proposed
to her the next morning without a spark of passion or even liking in his ice blue eyes. It was only after she reminded them both that she was pretty sure Trevor didn't give a damn about her, one way or the other, that Arnaud had come to his senses.

On those rare occasions Tally actually thought about it, the memory gave her chills.

Blond hair gelled to perfection unruffled by the ocean breezes, khaki slacks neatly pressed, and an open-necked black shirt, Bouchard appeared the epitome of a
GQ
model. All that marred the perfection was the angry red stain in his tanned cheeks, and the vein throbbing in his forehead.

Arnaud grabbed her upper arm and shook her. Hard. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

She licked desert-dry lips.
Oh, God. Michael, where are you
?

"Hey. Don't get all pissed off at me. I'm the one you left for dead, remember?" She yanked her arm from his clutches. "I saw you out the window a few minutes ago. Of
course
I followed you. Geez, Arnaud, I thought you were a ghost when I saw you. I think I deserve some explanation for why the boat blew up, and also why you didn't have the courtesy to let me know you made it."

Arnaud stood between her and the rocks. How to get around him without being obvious? She
had
to mention Brian. The dead body was like the two-ton elephant in the living room everyone pretended not to see. "In the meantime, we have more pressing business. I think Brian"—
Is dead, Jim, dead
—"must've drowned. Shouldn't we go and get hel—"

Arnaud stepped between Tally and the open stretch of beach. This time when he grabbed her arm, he almost yanked her off her feet.

"Hey! Get your damn hands off me." She tried to shake him off; his grip tightened, and her heart skipped a beat.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, ignoring the rest of her babbling.

Okay. That hadn't worked
. "Damn it, Arnaud. I want some answers. How did the
Serendipity
blow up? Hell,
why
did it blow up? How did you manage to get off without me seeing you? And what about Lu? Why did you—"

"Shut the fuck up." Arnaud drew back his arm and struck her across the face.

The force of the slap sent Tally stumbling backwards. Her bare heel collided with Brian. She tripped over him and landed on her butt in the hot sand, one leg draped over the dead man's waist.
Oh, God. Oh, God
. She lifted a shaking hand to her hot cheek and scooted out of range.

Anger warred with pure, soul-numbing fear. "What is
wrong
with you?" Tally shouted. "Are you on drugs or something?"

Arnaud strode around the body and jerked her to her feet. She slapped at his hand. Gone was the suave charmer who had served as her father's right hand. In his place stood a man with chillingly dead eyes, and an agenda of death. The alarm bells in her head clanged with deafening clarity. Tally tasted the metallic tang of fear in her mouth. Adrenaline raced through her, causing every fight-or-flight signal to tangle in a scary mess inside her.

"I told her I didn't want you here. Incompetence must run in your family, for Christ sake!" He was almost dragging her across the sand. Away from the marina. Away from help.

Away from Michael.

He was heading toward the end of the small cove. As far as Tally knew, the only thing beyond this point was a rocky cliff face, and a lot of water. She dug in her heels. "I'm not going mountain climbing with you."

"I was about to drag my old chum, Bri, a little farther out so the tide could do my cleanup for me. Grab his leg and help me pull him over there."

"Are you out of your mind? Jesus, Arnaud,
listen
to yourself!"

He backhanded her.

Her eyes filled with tears of rage. She swung at him blindly, and missed. His arms were longer than hers, and she couldn't get close enough to make a connection.

"It wasn't a request. Grab his leg. Now."

Tally wedged her feet ankle deep into the soft sand. "No. In fact,
hell
no. Lift that hand to me again, and you'll regret it."

She tasted blood in her mouth, and swiped the back of her hand across her split lip. Arnaud jerked her by the arm. Tally let out an earsplitting scream for help. He hit her again.

"Michael!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. Arnaud slapped a hand across her mouth and tried to drag her.

Tally kept her feet planted. He jerked her off-balance, as she struggled and wriggled to get in a few hits of her own.
Oh, damn. She was such a girl
. Why hadn't she had brothers to teach her to fight? She lunged out again, connecting with his ribs.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and held her away from him. Tally grabbed his thick wrist with both hands and tried to break his hold. The bastard was pulling her hair out by the roots. She dug her long nails in as hard as she could.

Arnaud threw her aside like a rag doll. Without her hands to protect her fall, she dropped to her knees. Hard. She lifted her head, spitting out bloody sand.

"You're going to regret this, Arnaud. You are going to regret this big time!" It was the most ridiculous, and childish, of threats. He was far stronger and more determined than she was. He could do pretty much anything he wanted to her. Her mind raced like a gerbil on a wheel. What to do? What the hell to do?

She felt around in the sand for a rock, a stone—hell, a seashell, anything she could use as a weapon to defend herself.

"What? Gonna haunt me, Tally?"

Haunt
? The blood drained from her head, then took up a frantic beat in her ears. She sat back on her heels. "You won't kill me."
Yes. He will. Of course he will
.

He stopped to look at her. "You've got more fucking lives than a goddamn cat. Hell yes, I'm going to kill you, you stupid bitch. But not here. I don't want Daddy falling over you until I'm good and ready for the big finale."

"Are you going to tell me
why
?" Tally asked calmly, heart racing. "In mystery novels, the killer always bares his soul before he kills his victim."

"You read too much."

"How about a little clue?"

"How about shutting the fuck up so I can hear myself think?"

He'd apparently done enough thinking already. "Let go. You're breaking my arm."

His fingers tightened cruelly. "In a few hours you won't be feeling any pain at all."

Keep him talking
. "Come on, Arnaud. At least tell me why?"

"What the hell difference does it make?" he sneered, hauling her to her feet. "Let's see." He rubbed his chin as he pulled her toward the rocky beginning of the cliffs. "Save the girl, and lose millions. Kill the girl, and get away clean. Hmm, real hard choice. I know. Kill the girl. And for God's sake, spare me and don't start singing. For old time's sake, I'll make it quick."

"Damn nice of you." Her mind was going a mile a minute. While her brain reconciled this Arnaud with the Arnaud who'd worshiped at her father's feet, she was slowing him down by literally dragging her feet. Tally leaned more and more of her body weight away from the arm he held. Her shoulder joint screamed for mercy. Her heart pounded. His large hand held her upper arm so tightly, he was cutting off her circulation. She considered dropping and rolling. There were a few rocks on this part of the beach. But better a few bruises than dead. She waited for just the right moment.

If Arnaud managed to get her beyond this small cove, there was a pretty good chance he'd make good on his threat.

Never leave one crime scene for another. Thank you, New Detectives on the Discovery Channel. Great advice
. Her heart was pounding so fast, it felt like there was a rabid animal scrabbling around in her chest. Her breath hitched. She was about to have a full-fledged panic attack.

Help… I need somebody… Help, not just any… booody… HELP
! "Why would you kill Brian? Wasn't he your friend?"
And why do you want to kill me
?

"I needed Brian for a while. Our partnership didn't suit him. He failed to understand that we
both
needed to be dead to make this work. He thought he could screw with me and walk away."

This
had to
be about money. A great deal of money. "What did you do? Rob my father? Have you been skimming money from his business?"

He smiled, but it didn't come close to reaching his eyes. "That's how it started. A little here. A little there. Hell, old Trev has enough to share."

"But you got greedy."

"He's getting old. Soft. He refuses to take an early retirement."

"So you're going to kill everyone on the island? To prove
what
, for godsake? That you
can
?"

"You were supposed to be dead. I wasted a beautiful yacht for nothing, goddamn it!" He jerked up hard on her arm, making her scream with pain. Agony shot through her shoulder, and her hand went numb. She swung with her other arm in a futile effort to connect. Her swing went wild.

"You would have been dead, I would have been dead—" Arnaud continued furiously. "What the hell are you? A cat with nine lives?"

"If I saw you, someone else must have," Tally pointed out breathlessly.

"If they did, nobody will tell. Except
for you
. You piss me off, Tally, you really do."

"Gee, Arnaud, I'm not feeling particularly warm and fuzzy about you, either. Here's a plan. Why don't I stroll back to Auntie's, and keep very quiet about your miraculous resurrection, and you go your merry way?"

"Because your father and my buyers are arriving in a few hours, and you have to be gone before they get here. I don't want you opening your big mouth and blabbing to your father about things which don't concern you. You know me. I don't like little loose ends. Everything needs to be neat and tidy."

"Fine. Let me save you the trouble." She tried to turn out of his grasp, but he held on more tightly. "Let me go, and I'm outta here. For heaven's sake, Arnaud, I can't believe anything is worth killing three people for."
Especially if I'm one of the dead people
.

"You have no idea
what
your father does, do you, you skinny little hag?" He laughed. "Taking over Church's business is worth killing a
hundred
people for. A thousand, a—"

"I get the picture," Tally said dryly. "Hag" was a little harsh, even for a killer. "Arnaud, listen to me. Do you really think my father will be pleased when he arrives to find me bloating on the beach?"

"Get a fucking clue. He thinks
I'm
dead. And he has no idea you're even here!"

"Of course, he does. He's the one who invited me."

"No, he didn't."

"Who did?" she asked with dawning horror. "You?"

"We were having a bit of a problem offing you in Chicago."

"Offing?" God. She was in the middle of a
Sopranos
episode. They were at the far end of the cove. She couldn't match him in strength. She had to outwit him. Hard to do, when her brain was a gibbering, screaming blob of fear.

"It was supposed to look like an accident. A fall in front of the train. A trip down the stairs in a dark movie theater. But you appear to have rubber bones, and the devil's own luck. Never mind. Apparently, if I want the job done right, I'm going to have to do it myself."

"I agree a hundred percent."

"You do?"

"Hell, yes." Tally twisted and, with the full strength of her body behind the blow, kneed him in the groin.

Miraculously, it was a direct hit.

With a girly scream, Arnaud fell to his knees, clutching his balls. She kicked him again. Hard. This time on the thigh. He fell to his side, howling, curled in a fetal ball, his hands between his legs.

Tally started sprinting back toward the marina. Back toward Michael and safety. She made it halfway to the other side.

Arnaud tackled her from behind. They went down in a tangle of arms and legs. He pinned her upper body with his chest, and her flailing legs with his own.

Struggling to push him off her while attempting to draw air into her lungs, Tally managed to scream at the top of her lungs. Her cries for help were cut off when Arnaud slammed his forearm across her throat. She gagged.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch."

Not having a choice, Tally complied, but she sure as hell wasn't going to lie there with him on top of her for any longer. She grabbed handfuls of sand and aimed for his eyes. That didn't deter him much.

He rolled off her and jerked her to her feet. "One more sound out of you and I'll kill you right here. And, believe me, I'll enjoy every second." He dragged her toward Brian's body. "Grab his legs and help me."

Tally stood her ground. "Go to hell."

This time, Arnaud punched her. The blow to her jaw snapped her head back, and it was only his grip on her arm that prevented her from falling backwards.

Blood flooded her mouth. "Fine. Go ahead. Then you'll have two bodies to drag wherever. But I refuse to help you. And I'm sure as hell not touching your friend. I didn't even like him when he was alive."

"The only damn thing you can do is to help me hide Brian, and die without me having to expend too much energy."

"Fuck you." Her jaw throbbed, and her lower lip felt bigger than one of Arnaud's promises. The skin on her upper arm leeched white from the pressure of his fingers, and the pain radiated all the way to her shoulder.