Page 21 of Murder List


  He leaned down and whispered, “Stay with me.”

  She nodded to let him know she had heard what he said.

  They were both getting speculative looks from men and women. Regan introduced Alec as her friend, but Henry was being plied with questions. Was Regan serious about this man? Who exactly was he, and what did he do for a living?

  Henry’s friend Kevin had also been invited, and he helped Henry with last-minute details.

  After Regan had welcomed her guests, she took Alec’s hand and led him to the first of twelve beautifully framed paintings. The cream-colored walls came to life next to the vibrant and joyful colors. Yes, joyful, Alec thought as he studied one bold abstract. The names of the artists were printed in black block letters on a white square plate underneath each painting.

  “I’ve never heard of any of these artists,” he said.

  “You’ll get to meet them before they become famous. Do you have a favorite painting?”

  He shook his head. “I like all of them.”

  Henry and Kevin stood together while they waited for a quiet moment to talk to Alec. Kevin’s hands were jammed into his pockets, and he was shifting from foot to foot.

  “Don’t lose your nerve,” Henry whispered. “Alec will help you. I know he will.”

  “I won’t lose my nerve. I’m gonna do it. So when do you think—”

  “After the presentation but before he takes Regan upstairs.” Henry’s gaze was on Regan and Alec. “They look good together, don’t they?”

  They were laughing and talking, and Henry noticed Regan taking Alec’s arm as she guided him from picture to picture. They seemed so comfortable with each other. As they headed back to the atrium, Henry and Kevin intercepted them. Alec shook Kevin’s hand when Henry introduced him. He could feel the kid trembling, but he already knew from the look in his eyes that he was scared.

  “You look familiar,” he said, thinking he might have busted him at one time.

  “I work at The Palms,” Kevin said. “Maybe you saw me there.”

  “Maybe.”

  Regan didn’t seem to notice there was anything wrong. She spotted a woman who nodded to her. “They’re here,” she told Henry.

  “Maybe later we could … uh, you know, maybe talk,” Kevin said to Alec.

  “Yeah, okay. Later.”

  “Are you ready, Henry?” Regan asked.

  “Let’s do it.”

  Alec stayed by Regan’s side as they made their way through the crowd to the podium. The guests had all been plied with food and drink, and the mood was quite jovial.

  The uninvited guest stood in the crowd watching her, waiting for his opportunity. Slowly he maneuvered his way toward her, closer and closer. For a few minutes he stood just feet away pretending to admire a painting while he eavesdropped on her conversation with a man she called Alec. If he could just get close enough to touch her, maybe he could separate her from the throng of people, get her alone, but each time he made his move, the man she was with got in the way and wouldn’t let her out of his sight. She was the center of attention, the star. Wherever she turned, there was another guest eager for a moment of her time. It took him twenty minutes to weave his way close again, but just as he was extending his hand to take hers and request a moment of privacy, Alec ushered her in the opposite direction. His frustration grew. He couldn’t get to her. Tonight would not be the night. He would have to wait for another opportunity, but eventually the right moment would come, and he would be ready. Unnoticed, he slipped out the side door.

  * * *

  Henry motioned to the string quartet to take a break. He stood next to Regan as she once again welcomed everyone, and then she introduced Henry and moved back so that he could speak into the microphone.

  As he was talking about the importance of art and music in the public schools, the twelve artists filed in and stood in front of the podium. With a great deal of pride in his voice, Henry presented each one.

  Alec was impressed and a little stunned. Not one of the artists was more than fourteen or fifteen years old. Now he understood what Regan had meant when she said he would meet them before they became famous, for their amazing talent was just beginning to blossom. The paintings were for sale, the price of each steep, but every dollar would go to the art departments in the schools the artists represented. Henry also introduced the teachers involved in the new program and explained that the artists would receive scholarships and art supplies.

  Every painting had been sold by nine o’clock. Regan was thrilled and so proud of Henry, she hugged him. She kept giving him all the credit, but Henry told Alec that Regan had come up with the idea. He’d merely implemented it.

  The party was over by ten, and though it wasn’t all that late, Regan was tired and wanted to go up to her suite, take a hot shower, and fall into bed.

  They were crossing the lobby together with Henry and Kevin trailing behind. She was telling Alec the reason behind the art project.

  “Whenever schools run into financial trouble, they take away money for art and music. The administrators … they forget.”

  “Forget what?” he asked.

  Henry answered. “It’s like Regan says. Education isn’t just about feeding the brain. Art and music feed the heart and the soul.”

  Alec agreed. Then Henry said, “There will always be paintings hanging on those walls, and when one sells, we’ll put another one up. It will be an ongoing thing. It’s a cool idea, isn’t it? The goal is to do this in all the Hamilton hotels.”

  Kevin nudged Henry and whispered, “I want to get this over with.”

  Henry spoke up. “Hey, Regan, how about stopping for a drink?”

  The bar was just off the lobby, and there were only a couple of people inside. Alec suggested they get a table and order a drink, a nonalcoholic drink he stressed.

  Alec squeezed Regan’s hand. “If you want me to take you upstairs, I’m sure the policeman is already stationed outside your door. I’ll check your suite, lock you in, and come back down here. The guys won’t mind waiting.”

  “That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll get a drink with you.”

  The bar was dark and cozy, the walls a rich walnut paneling. Candlelight flickered softly from votives on all the tables. Henry rushed ahead and found a table tucked in the corner that faced the side exit. He pulled out a chair for Regan, but Alec didn’t approve. He wanted her to sit with her back against the wall. Once Regan was settled, she expected the three men to join her, but none of them sat down. Henry and Kevin had their heads down and were looking very ill at ease.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Henry darted a quick look at Alec before answering. “What it is …” he began, and then nudged Kevin.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  She marveled at the change in Henry. When he had stood at the podium and had spoken to the guests tonight, he had been polished and eloquent. Now he was acting like an insecure teenager. Henry only reverted to that behavior when something was very wrong or had him riled up.

  “I just thought that maybe Kevin would want to talk to Detective Buchanan for a couple of minutes, and he said okay, about talking … you know, so Kevin can run something by him.”

  Henry seemed to need her approval, and so she said, “That’s fine.”

  Alec put his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Henry, sit with Regan while Kevin and I talk.” He turned to Regan. “Don’t you move,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes. Ordering her to stay put hadn’t really been necessary, since he never let her out of his sight. He and Kevin went down the three steps to the corridor and stood off to the side. Alec towered over Kevin, so he leaned down to hear what he was saying.

  Regan couldn’t read anything in Alec’s expression, but poor Kevin was clearly falling apart. His complexion went from ashen white to flushed red, and he was talking fast and gesturing with his hands. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he angrily wiped it away. Then he glanced at Regan. She quickly turned to
Henry, so Kevin wouldn’t know she had been watching him.

  “Is Kevin in trouble?”

  “Not Kevin … someone else. It’s kind of private stuff, but he said I could tell you.”

  The waiter appeared with a small silver bowl filled with cashews. Henry ordered soft drinks for all of them and then sat back. He continued. “He’s scared. His mother … you know, she left a couple of years ago. She just walked out.”

  “Yes, I know,” Regan replied.

  “His dad got a divorce, and that was a good move, and he got sole custody of the kids too. Anyway, Kevin’s mother suddenly showed up again and she wasn’t alone … and they’re bringing the junk back into the house … you know, drugs.”

  “Why didn’t Kevin’s father—?”

  “Kick them out? He tried, but they aren’t going anywhere. His dad farmed the kids out to friends, and Kevin thought maybe Alec could help him.”

  “Poor Kevin,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine how he must be feeling.”

  “He thinks he’s playing it cool, but he isn’t.” Henry watched his friend for a minute and then turned back to Regan. “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Stay cool. I mean, come on, you’ve got a nut out there doing crazy stuff. You’ve got a bodyguard and security—”

  “I’m not cool about it,” she said. “But I try not to dwell on it.”

  “Waiting for something to happen … that’s what’s scary. I get freaked out thinking about it. If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do. I mean …”

  She put her hand on top of his. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”

  She sounded as though she knew what she was talking about, but like Henry, she got scared thinking about it. Then she looked at Alec and she relaxed. As long as she was with him, she was safe.

  The waiter placed the drinks on the table. She thanked him, picked up her glass, and took a sip. Her gaze kept going back to Alec. Henry noticed.

  “What are you going to do when he leaves?”

  “I guess someone else will be assigned to follow me around.”

  “That’s not what I mean. Come on, Regan. You’re talking to me. You don’t have to pretend. I’ve been watching you two. You’ve got this connection. You know what I’m talking about?”

  Oh, boy, did she. “I like him,” she admitted. “He kind of grows on you, but he isn’t at all my type.”

  “You mean the sterile type?”

  She smiled. “What’s that?”

  “Every button buttoned, always in a suit and tie, and looking immaculate all the time. I used to think Aiden was the sterile type, but then I played rugby with him in that charity game, and man, did I change my mind. He was muddy and brutal. Definitely not the sterile type. And neither is Detective Buchanan—I mean Alec.

  He told me to call him Alec—I’ll bet he’d be brutal on the field too.”

  “I’m sure he’d play to win,” she agreed. “He is kind of … sloppy,” she added, and almost made it sound like a compliment.

  Henry finished his drink, then picked up the one he’d ordered for Kevin and gulped it down in two swallows. He couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands. He lifted his empty glass, swirled the ice around a couple of times, and then put the glass back down. Regan handed him her drink, and he gulped that down too.

  “I’m thirsty,” he said.

  “You’re nervous.”

  “That too,” he agreed.

  Regan’s heart went out to Kevin. He had backed away from Alec, but Alec grabbed his arm and shook his head. He put his finger in front of the teenager’s face and started talking. Regan couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Kevin appeared to be hanging on his every word. He didn’t look as anxious or fearful.

  Alec Buchanan was a good man. She felt a tightness in her throat as she watched him, and she suddenly realized that the attraction she’d felt for him had grown into something much more complicated.

  “Here they come,” Henry whispered.

  Kevin came back into the bar first. His eyes were red. “We should probably go,” he said to Henry.

  “So should we,” Alec said. “It’s getting late.”

  Regan immediately stood. She said good night to the boys. A few minutes later, Alec was seeing her to her suite.

  “Listen, I’ll be a little late in the morning. I’ve got some things to do … packing and stuff. I’ll make sure the policeman on duty stays until I get here.”

  She had a feeling that the “stuff” had something to do with Kevin, but she wasn’t going to ask.

  “That’s fine,” she said.

  “Good night, then.”

  He was pulling the door closed. “Wait,” she said.

  He stopped. “Yes?”

  “Tomorrow … be careful … packing. Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  She bolted the door and leaned against it. She knew she would be dreaming about him tonight, but she vowed that tomorrow she would take that step back and start being practical again. There was only one little problem with her decision. She didn’t know how.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  HENRY TOLD HER WHAT HAD HAPPENED. HE RUSHED INTO HER office, closed the doors behind him, and said, “I know you were worried about Kevin, so I just wanted you to know it all worked out.”

  She’d been searching through her desk drawers looking for her stash of M&M’s. She immediately gave Henry her full attention. She looked up and saw how relieved Henry was. “That’s good to know.”

  Henry wanted to talk. “Kevin is on his way up. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “He said it was real bad for a while.”

  “It was?”

  “Alec had it all set up. He told Kevin’s dad to keep the kids out of there, and he did. Anyway, Kevin didn’t want to leave, so he saw it go down.”

  “Was Kevin in the house while this was happening?”

  “No,” he said. “He was across the street, staying out of the way. I think maybe he was hiding so Alec wouldn’t make him leave. He said that for a minute there he was afraid of Alec. I guess a couple of his mother’s friends resisted, and Alec and the others with him had to get … uh, physical so they could get the cuffs on them. I sure wish I’d been there. Kevin said the look on Alec’s face when he was … you know, having to get physical, was scary.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t there,” she said.

  He pushed some papers out of his way and sat on the edge of her desk. “I’ll bet they knew Kevin was there. Alec told Kevin’s mother she’d get the opportunity to go into rehab, but she turned it down.”

  “How’s Kevin doing?”

  “He’s okay. He’s kind of come to terms with the way things have to be.”

  “You’re a good friend, Henry.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s helped me get through some tough times.” He spotted Kevin in the outer office and said, “Kevin was okay with me telling you what happened, but …”

  “I still won’t mention anything,” she assured him.

  Regan bent down to check her bottom drawer for the M&M’s, and when she looked up, she saw Alec standing next to Henry’s desk talking to him. Kevin was there too, standing beside his friend.

  Alec evidently hadn’t gone home to change clothes after the action at Kevin’s house. He walked into her office, asked her if anything was going on, and then told her he’d dismissed the policeman and was taking over the bodyguard duty.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  He looked comfortable in his jeans and T-shirt, but the gun and holster were very noticeable. He caught her staring at it. “It’s part of the job, Regan.”

  “I know.”

  “Good, because you need to be okay with it.”

  Why was he getting all worked up? “What’s the matter with you?”

  He glanced into the outer office, saw Kevin, and shook his head. “Nothi
ng’s the matter. Some people just don’t get the breaks they should. It was a bad way to start a morning, that’s all.”

  “But it turned out all right?”

  He shrugged, and that was the end of the conversation.

  Alec could close up quicker than a clam. If he hadn’t been so aggravating, she would have been impressed.

  By midafternoon they had fallen back into their routine. Alec took a nap on her sofa while she cleaned out files.

  That evening they went back to her suite, ordered pizza, popcorn, pop, and beer, and watched a movie. It was an old classic, a love story that made her cry and made him laugh. She accused him of not having a sentimental bone in his body, and he took that as a compliment.

  The next night he chose the movie, and they watched another old classic. It wasn’t a love story, though, it was a rip-’em-up, shoot-’em-up, skin-’em-alive movie with lots of special effects and aliens. He loved it.

  Both of them had their feet propped up on the ottoman. She was barefoot; he was wearing socks. One had a big hole in it.

  The credits were rolling when he asked, “Want to watch it again?”

  She didn’t think he was kidding. “No, thank you. It was too violent for me.”

  “You thought it was violent?” He acted surprised by her reaction.

  “Alec, I counted thirty-two dead bodies.”

  “That’s not so bad,” he said with a straight face.

  “Thirty-two in the first half hour. I stopped counting after that.”

  “Hey, they were aliens, and humans were their food source. What did you expect?”

  “A little less face eating would have been nice.”

  “Yeah, but not as scary. Man, I loved those kinds of movies when I was a kid.”

  “You liked being scared?”

  “Sure.”

  “What about nightmares?”

  “I shared a room with my brother Dylan, and I figured if any monsters got in, the two of us could take them.” He grinned as he added, “I was kind of cocky back then.”

  “Back then? I’ve got news for you, hotshot. You still are.”