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Hoping a moving target would be harder for whoever was out there to hit, he took off in a crouched run down the winding trail.
* * *
WILLA COULDN’T SIT still. All she wanted to do was get off the island with the disk. She could come back for anything she left behind.
She dressed for the boat ride, packed a few essentials, then waited for Landry, listening for the sound of a boat and growing more anxious every minute when she didn’t hear one.
It was the quiet that eventually got to her. Blossom wasn’t playing her music. In fact, Willa had seen neither Blossom nor Henri all day.
She peeked out through the blinds. A light was on at Odell’s apartment. She could see it through his partially opened doorway. But no sign of him, either. The villa was too quiet.
Her heart began to pound. Where was Henri? And Blossom? And why didn’t Landry come back?
Her fear growing, she went to the end table and took out the gun he’d left with her. She checked to make sure it was loaded, thankful that Landry had been right. She did know how to use a gun.
Darkness settled over the villa. She realized there was someone else she hadn’t seen—or heard all day. Alma Garcia. There was no light that she could see on the third floor. Where was everyone?
She glanced again at Odell’s. No sign of life. He must have gone somewhere with Henri and Blossom, though she couldn’t imagine a more unlikely trio. As she waited, she fought the need to find one of them just to reassure herself that everything was fine.
Wait until Landry comes back.
She went back to the couch and had just sat down when she heard the scream. Leaping up, she ran to the window and looked out. She could see Henri down by Odell’s open doorway. Henri was walking backward, her hands over her mouth, a wounded animal sound coming out of her.
Grabbing the gun and keeping it by her side out of view, Willa opened the door and stepped out on the balcony.
“What is it?” she called down to Henri.
The redhead spun around, terror in her eyes. Her hands fell away from her mouth and she began to cry as she stumbled to the bottom of the stairs, sitting down on the bottom step. “It’s Odell,” she managed to say between sobs. “I think he’s dead.”
“Did you check for a pulse?” Willa called down.
Henri looked up at her, her face pale, her eyes red from crying and shook her head. “I couldn’t. I faint at the sight of blood and there’s blood all over.” She started crying again.
“I thought you left. I haven’t seen you all day,” Willa said as she descended the stairs behind the other woman.
“I had a hangover,” she said, sniffing and wiping her face on the sleeve of her robe. “I took a sleeping pill with some wine. It knocked me out.”
“Have you seen Blossom?” Willa asked.
Henri noticed the gun and shook her head slowly. “She was with Bull earlier. But I thought Bull left alone.”
“Okay,” Willa said, and with the gun still at her side started across the courtyard toward Odell’s open doorway. She listened for the sound of a boat, praying that Landry would return before she reached Odell’s apartment.
She saw no one, heard no boat motor. And Landry should have been back by now.
Willa glanced ba
ck. Henri now stood in her apartment doorway looking scared.
“Stay there,” Willa said unnecessarily to Henri as she neared Odell’s open doorway. “Odell?” she called. “Odell?”
At the door she stopped, took a breath and let it out slowly, her fingers tightening on the grip of the gun. With her free hand, she pushed the door open with one finger. It swung in.
The smell of blood hit her first.
The second thing was Odell lying on the floor, his typewriter next to his head. Henri was right. There was blood everywhere.
Willa stepped in trying to ignore the blood as she hurried to check Odell’s wrist for a pulse. She could see that the side of his head had been smashed in and there was blood on the typewriter and the sheet of paper was sticking out of it. Like Henri, she fainted at the sight of blood under normal circumstances.
