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She had just touched his wrist and found what she’d expected—no pulse—when the typed words came into focus. She drew her hand back as she read the byline: Odell Grady, St. Petersburg Times Investigative Reporter.
Below it was the beginning of a newspaper story about her and Landry. No wonder Odell Grady had to have a paper every day. A news junkie, huh?
A sound startled her. She couldn’t tell where it had come from. But it had sounded like hurried movement. Her gaze flicked to the cool shadows at the back of the apartment. The killer wouldn’t be foolish enough to hide in here. After Henri had found Odell and come for help, the killer would have had plenty of time to get out. Unless, of course, he was waiting for Willa.
She heard the sound again, so close it made the hair stand up on the back of her neck. She swung around as a hand dropped to her shoulder. She screamed, her hand tightening on the gun, her finger going to the trigger.
“Easy, darlin’, it’s me,” Landry said as he caught the gun before she could turn and fire.
He looked past her to where Odell Grady was sprawled on the floor, clearly dead. “Was it something he said?”
She buried her face in Landry’s chest. He put his arms around her, holding her tight.
“I didn’t hear the boat.”
“My boat is gone and the old fisherman hasn’t returned.”
She drew back to stare in shock and fear at him.
“Not to worry. We’re getting out of here,” he said as he drew her out of Odell’s apartment and into the courtyard. “Where are Henri and Blossom?”
“Henri’s the one who found Odell. She’s in her apartment. No one has seen Blossom since she was talking to Bull earlier.” Willa seemed to choke on a sob. “Odell lied. He was a newspaper reporter. He was doing a story on us.”
Landry heard the panic rising in her voice. “Okay,” he said, sounding much calmer than he felt. “Let’s go get Henri and see if we can find Blossom.”
She nodded as he pocketed her gun and they started across the courtyard toward Henri’s apartment.
“Her door’s closed,” Willa said, slowing. “When I left her it was open. She was standing in the doorway, waiting for me.”
Landry felt his pulse jump.
“She said she fainted at the sight of blood.”
He wondered why Willa hadn’t. Because she could be strong when she had to be. He was counting on that.
There was no light coming from inside Henri’s apartment and the storm had snuffed out the sun, filling the courtyard with a kind of ominous darkness.
Landry tapped at Henri’s door, realizing he couldn’t hear the power generator. The only light in any of the apartments was one on the third floor. An old oil lamp, he thought, watching the light flicker.
Someone had shut down the generator. Or forgot to refill it with gas. Either way, it didn’t bode well, given that Odell Grady had been murdered and it appeared Henri was now missing. He didn’t even want to think about what had happened to Blossom.
He tapped again. No answer.
“She wouldn’t have left, Landry,” Willa cried, grabbing his arm. “She was upset and scared and she said she would wait.”
Right. Unless she killed Odell and Blossom.
He tried the knob. It was unlocked. Pushing open the door, he took the flashlight from his pocket and shone it into the room. “Henri?”
No answer but then he hadn’t expected one.
The apartment was smaller than Willa’s, the bathroom door standing open, the shower curtain pulled back exposing an empty shall. Henri was gone.
“Let’s try Blossom’s.” He knew she wasn’t going to answer the door but he could hope.
He knocked, then tried the knob. Also unlocked. He was starting to see a pattern here. He pushed open the door and shone the flashlight in. The light bobbed around the small apartment with the same results. Empty.
“Okay,” he said seeing the fear in Willa’s eyes. “Where is the disk?”
