Fire Night Page 12
But then she halted all of a sudden and screamed, her back going rigid.
“Will!” she cried.
My smile fell, and I darted up to her side, taking hold of her.
“Wha—?”
But then I looked down and saw a bloody pool on the wooden floor, a body lying in the hallway.
I sucked in a breath and pulled her back. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, my God.” She covered her mouth with her hand.
“What’s going on?” Kai called from downstairs, and I looked over the railing to see him standing in the foyer.
“Hurry!” I waved him up.
Kneeling down, I tried to make out the guy’s face in the dark, but he was face down, only the left side visible.
Who…? What the hell happened?
“Baby, get the lights,” I told her.
I pressed my fingers, finding his neck to check for a pulse, but I couldn’t find one. Light finally illuminated the hallway as footfalls hit the stairs, everyone running up after us.
“What the hell?” Kai said, stopping next to the body. “Who is that?”
How would I know?
“Is he dead?” I heard Michael ask.
No idea. I stared down at him, a young blond man in street clothes, blood seeping out of his head. I didn’t recognize him, and he wasn’t dressed for the party.
“Who is that?” Rika asked.
I shook my head.
Someone raced past us as I searched his pockets for identification, but when I reached under his jacket, I felt it.
I hesitated, the pulse in my neck throbbing.
Shit.
I flipped him over, dug under his arm, and pulled out the pistol from his holster. It laid in my palm, realization starting to hit all of us at the exact same time. The only people who had weapons were Lev and David, and this wasn’t either of them.
“The kids are gone!” a woman shouted.
What? I shot to my feet as everyone spun around to lock eyes with Mrs. Cuthbert.
“What kids?” I barked. “They’re at the theater.” And then I jerked my chin at Emmy, tossing her my phone. “Call Miss Englestat.” She had the kids at the theater. “Have her do a head count.”
She nodded, her hands shaking as she dialed.
“Mads and Octavia,” Damon murmured, his worried eyes meeting mine. “They stayed behind.”
Mads and Octavia… I darted my eyes to the nanny.
“They’re not in their rooms,” she cried.
And my face fell, realizing those were the kids she was talking about.
Everyone ran.
“Tavi!” Banks raced down the hall to the rooms the kids used when they were here.
“Madden!” Kai bolted down the other hallway where it forked to search the gallery where his son liked to hide.
“Madden!” more voices called as everyone fanned out.
My mouth went dry. I dipped down again, searching for the dude’s pulse and not finding it. Putting my fingers under his nose, I waited to feel the warmth of his breath.
There was nothing.
More footfalls ascended the stairs, and I rose up again, piecing together the possibilities in my head.
“He’s dead,” I said.
“It wasn’t us,” I head Lev say, and I looked up to see him and David standing at the top of the stairs, out of breath. “We didn’t see anything.”
“That’s obvious!” Banks growled.
“The door’s been opening every ten seconds with guests, Banks!” Lev yelled. “Anyone could’ve gotten in. I told you we needed more security.”
“But you all didn’t want ‘armed guards and a metal detector at the front door’,” David added, quoting Michael.
Michael grabbed his collar, shoving him away. “Search the house. Go!”
Damon, Banks, and Michael ran in and out of rooms, searching again. “Mads!” they called. “Octavia!”
I tucked the gun into the back of my pants and gestured to Kai. “Get his feet.”
“We need the police,” Emmy argued. “Don’t move him.”
“We’re not calling anybody until we find the kids,” Kai gritted out.
We weren’t sure how this happened. We needed to find out before we involved the cops.
“Octavia!” Damon bellowed, and I swore I could hear his frantic breathing from here.
“Wait, the cameras…” Rika burst out.
Spinning around, she ran to her office, her computer set up to access the street cams and home security. She had a view of nearly every inch of the town.
Kai and I dumped the body in her and Michael’s bedroom, closed the door, flipped over the carpet in the hallway to cover the blood, and ran after everyone else, charging into her office.
“Go back,” I heard Michael tell her.
Pushing buttons and turning a knob, she rewound the footage, playing back the night’s events. There weren’t any cameras inside the house, but they covered the exterior and the grounds. I guessed that would change after tonight. Michael would have the company here in the morning, adding extra security.
She stopped, seeing Mads and Octavia rushing out the side door of the kitchen, running frantically as if trying to escape, but…
A car was waiting. My heart lodged in my throat. Two men jumped out, and before the kids knew what was happening, they were thrown inside and the car raced off.
“No,” Damon gasped.
“What is it?” Winter cried.
He just held her close.
“Wait, wait, who is that?” Kai pointed to the blond sitting in the passenger side seat. “Zoom in!”
Rika rewound again, catching him as he got out of the car to help get the kids and paused the video, enhancing the shot.
Banks whimpered. “Ilia Oblonsky.”
Kai’s spine straightened, and he breathed hard. Ilia was an employee of Gabriel Torrance years ago. Banks had him thrown out of the country when she inherited her father’s estate.
“And who’s that?” Michael squinted at the other one who’d gotten out of the SUV.
“I can’t tell,” Rika replied.
But I stared at the brown head I’d know anywhere, because I knew him well.
My God.
“Taylor Dinescu,” I whispered.
Everyone turned to look at me, my stint in Blackchurch still rearing its ugly head.
“Jesus, fuck,” Damon muttered. “How did they find each other?”
I had no idea. Maybe there was Facebook group for people who hated us. A sinking feeling hit me, because I knew. I knew it years ago. He was a loose end I’d ignored, and I shouldn’t have.
But then Banks twisted around. “Kai?”
I followed her gaze, seeing Kai back out of the room, rage in his eyes.
“It’s my turn,” he told her. “I let you deal with him last time. Not this time.”
But before I could figure out what he meant, he tore from the room, and it took no time at all before we were all racing after him.
The ball still carried on downstairs, but instead of clearing the place or making some excuse to our guests, we didn’t waste another minute.
“Give me your phone,” Rika told Banks.
Without question, she handed it to her as we raced down the stairs. Tears spilled down Banks’s cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound otherwise.