Chapter Forty-Six

The Phoenix team descended like a thunderstorm, and Trey disappeared into the chaos. I didn't have time to ponder the rescue mission, however—I was shoving my way through a sea of perplexed rich people, keeping my eyes on Gabriella. She stood beside the vanishing edge pool, her hair loose and rippling, her expression curious. She didn't attempt to flee, but by the time I reached her, my sides heaved from my sprint across the courtyard.

"Stay where you are!" I yelled.

She shrugged. "Why would I run?"

And she didn't. This wasn't how I'd expected the encounter to go, but if she wanted to surrender, that was cool with me. Of course if she didn’t surrender, and I had to wrestle her to the ground and throw her thieving French self into the pool, I was okay with that too.

Once I got Trey's gun back.

"Here," she said, "it's unloaded."

She handed me her purse. It was like holding a brick. I peeked inside and saw Trey's H&K snuggled in the red velvet lining, the magazine nestled beside it.

I closed it back up and looked her in the eye. "Why?"

"Why did I take it? Or why did I bring it back?"

"Both."

She sighed. "You won't believe me."

"Try me."

"Very well. I had a vision."

I stared at her. "A what?"

"A vision. A portent. A psychic reckoning. It was horrible—blood everywhere, and Trey…" She trailed off, one pale hand trembling at her temple. "All I could think about was what happened last time, when he shot that man at the convenience store. Do you know that story?"

I folded my arms. "I don't see—"

"The vision wasn't clear, but I could tell he was angry, and that he was very close to hurting someone, just like he did then. And I knew I had to stop it from happening."

"So you decided to steal his weapon?"

She ignored me. "Once I returned home and did some energetic processing, I realized that my emotional state had clouded my judgment, that I might have, in that state of anxiety, misinterpreted the vision.”

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, I hate it when that happens.”

She ignored me even harder. “So I asked the tarot. And there it was—Justice. And I knew then that no matter what, Trey would be fine, as his heart is fully aligned with that principle. Lady Justice would guide him with her scales and protect him with her sword. So I brought his gun back."

She laid the story out so simply, as if this happened to everyone all the time. Visions, cards, thievery, fully aligned hearts. I was at a loss.

"You went in his computer,” I said. “What does that have to do with justice?”

She looked perplexed. "I left him a note where only he could see it. To explain. Didn't he read it?"

"No, he didn't read it! There was a freaking key logger on there, so he couldn’t get into any of his programs to see your damn note!” I rubbed my temples, took a deep breath. "Never mind. Just tell me—how did you get on the property tonight without Trey knowing?”

She waved her hand dismissively, as if that were the dumbest question ever. "I bribed the person in the van, the curly-haired one? A thousand dollars." She made a face. "Terribly rude, that man. But he knows how to bargain, I'll give him that."

* * *

Trey sent me a message about an hour later, telling me to meet him on the deck behind the Beaumonts' cabin. I found him standing at the railing, his hands resting lightly on the white wood, one finger tap-tap-tapping a steady rhythm.

I handed him the purse. "Your girlfriend is a fucking lunatic. Other than that, I have nothing to report."

Trey looked inside the purse, and his jaw clenched. "How did she get past security?"

"She waved a thousand dollars at Steve Simpson, and he let her through. When I see him again, I am going to strangle him with his own hair."

Trey checked the gun—it was unloaded, the magazine still full. “This is what happens when people break the rules. I try to explain this, but nobody listens." He handed the purse back to me. "Take this back to the suite, please, and secure it in the safe. I'll use the one you provided for the rest of the night."

He looked exhausted. I imagined his every sinew was pulled tight, every nerve stretched thin. I put a hand on his shoulder, and the muscle tensed beneath my palm.

"How's Charley?"

"She's resting. One of the guests gave her a tranquilizer."

Nothing like a classy Schedule IV opiate to make things all better, I thought. "What happened?"

"She said she got dizzy because she hadn't eaten and that Jake grabbed her to steady her."

"Bullshit! Jake said something to her, and it upset her so much that she fainted. She can't blame that on an empty stomach."

I leaned on the railing beside Trey. In the distance, the sun set in a slow melt of honey and amber. I kicked my shoes off and wiggled my toes. The wood under my feet felt cool and moist.

"What happened to Jake?"

"Mark had him thrown off the premises."

"That's it? You’ve got to be kidding."

The tap-tapping of Trey's finger on the wood railing intensified.

I turned to face him. "I know you know this, but something's up. And nobody's talking, not Charley, and especially not Mark."

"Mark is heading back to the reception. Landon is accompanying him. Marisa too. Charley is staying in their cabin."

"She shouldn't be left alone, not with Jake lurking about."

"Mark asked me to stay with her. Charley wants the cabin empty, however, so he told me to wait here until she goes to sleep and then post up. Marisa and Landon agreed that would be acceptable. I don’t think they approve of Mark’s choice, however. Of me. Nonetheless, they agreed."

He stared across the lake as he spoke, the polished water a darkening void before him. And suddenly nothing made sense, nothing in the whole world, and all I wanted to do was get out of my ridiculous dress and into some jeans. I especially wanted to lose the heavy cargo in the spangled purse. I could argue that one gun was protection, but I could make no case for two. Dexter was right—guns were not easy things.

Trey buttoned his jacket. "What will you do now?"

"Wait for you in the suite with a bourbon in hand. My stint as girl detective is over for the night. Find me when you're done?"

He took his eyes of the horizon for the first time. They were tired, but steady. Dark, like the coming night. "I'll find you."