Liz glanced at her friend. Heather stared toward the window, her lovely face puckered with worry. Liz caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn’t know why, but she felt a strong compulsion to disregard Rick’s advice and tell the other woman what was going on. She felt that by not telling her she might be exposing her to danger.

Liz shook off the sensation.

Heather turned her gaze to Liz. “Everything okay?”

“Fine.” She forced a smile.

The other woman’s eyebrows shot up. “You seem kind of jumpy.”

Liz laughed. The sound rang false even to her own ears. “Too much caffeine, that’s all.”

Heather saw through her lie and looked hurt. She stood. “I’d better go.”

“Wait-” Liz held out a hand. “A friend’s gotten himself in some trouble. I’m trying to help, that’s all.”

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Okay. If you need to talk, you know where I am.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Liz accompanied her friend downstairs to the front door. There, she met the woman’s gaze once more. “What about you? What are you going to do? I’m worried. I think you should go to the police.”

“Forget what I said about being followed. I’m probably overreacting. I mean, why would anyone be following me?”

“Heather, don’t take any chances. Please. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’m pretty tough.” The woman grinned. “Anybody tries to mess with me, they’ll regret it.”

Liz watched her go, appreciating her pluck but unable to suppress a feeling of dread. No matter how tough she thought she was, Heather Ferguson would be no match for the monster who had murdered Tara.

CHAPTER 30

Sunday, November 18

3:20 p.m.

Val was waiting for Rick when he arrived back at the Hideaway. He looked pissed. “We need to talk.”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Rick muttered. Instead of his bike, he’d taken his battered but reliable old Jeep to Marathon. Usually reliable, he amended. The air-conditioning had gone out just outside Big Pine Key. He was hot, tired and thirsty. The last thing he wanted to do at this moment was tangle with his old friend.

“Cut the shit, Rick. I know where you were today. And I consider it a personal betrayal of our friendship.”

The cat was out of the bag now. Dammit. Rick laid his cell phone and keys on the bar. “Mind if I get a cold drink first?”

“Hell yes, I mind. But you always do whatever you want anyway. Don’t you, Rick?”

Margo looked from one to the other of them and ducked her head, pretending to take inventory of the drink well.

The two men exchanged a long glance. Rick swore. “Margo, we’ll be in my office.”

A moment later Rick closed the door behind them. They faced each other. “You crossed the line, my friend. You crossed it big time.”

“How did you find out?”

“Daniel called. He’s had second thoughts about sharing that sketch with you.”

Covering his ass. Smart man. Rick lifted his shoulders. “What’s the big deal? No harm done.”

“Bullshit. I want that sketch.”

Rick stalled. “It’s only a copy.”

Val held a hand out. It shook slightly with the force of his rage. “The copy, please. Now.”

Rick dug it out of his pocket and handed it over. Val shoved it into his pocket. No doubt he had another copy in a file at the KWPD. “Jesus, man, that’s evidence you’re screwing with. My investigation you’re screwing with. I’d ask what the hell you were thinking, but you know what? I don’t care. It’s over. Do you read me? You’re out of this.”

He strode to the door, yanked it open and started through.

“Ever hear of a group called the Horned Flower?” Rick asked.

Val stopped but didn’t turn around.

“It’s a group of teenagers on Key West. They’re a close-knit group, they call themselves a family. They’re involved in drugs and sex for sure. And maybe murder.”

Val turned. “Is this a joke?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

Val studied him a moment, then shook his head. “A group of teenagers here on Key West, involved in murder? Tara ’s murder?”

“Yes.”

Val shook his head. “I don’t have time for this…nonsense.”

“I think you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.” Rick motioned to a chair. “Sit. Hear me out. If you think it’s a crock of shit after you do, you won’t hear from me again. Agreed?”

The other man stared at him for a long moment, then sat. “Make it fast.”

“The night Tara was murdered, remember I told you one of my employees had gone home early, claiming stomach flu?”

Val nodded. “That kid who works for you-Mark.”

“Mark Morgan. Worked for me. Past tense.”

Val’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Go on.”

“I didn’t close out my register until later the next day. Found an IOU for six hundred bucks.”

“The kid took the money.”

“Yup. It was an emergency, he said. He had to leave Key West. He promised to pay it back.”

“Yeah right, in your dreams.”

“I went to his place, looking for him. Car was gone, his rented room dark and silent as a tomb.” Rick frowned, wondering what he would have found if he had decided to go in. “I figured the money was history and chalked it up to bad judgment on my part.”

Val leaned forward slightly. “And the rest of the story?”

“A little less than a week ago Mark called Liz Ames. He arranged for them to meet that afternoon at Mallory Square. They’d never met before but she agreed because he said he had information about Tara ’s death.”

Val straightened. Rick could tell by his old friend’s expression that he had a mouthful of questions, but to his credit he held them.

“They met. Turns out, Mark was Tara ’s boyfriend. They had planned to run away together the night she was killed. That’s what he needed the money for.”

“So he says. He knew she was pregnant?”

“Yes. But it gets worse. He was there that night, in the garden.”

Val launched to his feet. “Son-of-a-bitch! We’ve been chasing our tails all over this island trying to find a suspect, and you-” He bit his words back and dragged a hand through his hair. “When did you learn all this?”

“Just last night.”

Angry color stained his cheeks. “You should have called me then and there. Shit, man! In an investigation like this every minute counts. You know that.”

“Believe me, Val, that was what I intended to do. After I closed I went to Liz’s place to collect her. I planned to insist she come with me and relay exactly what transpired between her and Mark.”

“But instead you used an old friend to help you illegally obtain evidence and in the process interfere with a murder investigation. Smart, Rick. Really smart.”

Rick sent his friend a level stare. “You want to hear the whole story? Or not?”

Val scowled. “What I want is to get out there and catch this killer.”

“Then I guess, like it or not, you need to hear it, don’t you?” The other man grunted a response and Rick continued. “ Tara was a part of that group I asked you about, the Horned Flower. Mark said they had threatened Tara. If she tried to exit their ‘family’ they would hurt her. That’s why they were running away. He went to the garden to meet her and found her there, dead. Mark told Liz that he believed they, members of the Horned Flower, had killed Tara. He also believed the Horned Flower was responsible for Rachel Howard’s disappearance.”

“No wonder the woman bought this whole load of shit.”

“That’s what I thought too. Until I saw the drawings.” Rick paused, then went on. “Liz had a journal page of her sister’s. There were drawings of a strange flower, a horned flower. I remembered that Tara had a tattoo on her thigh, a tattoo of a flower. I figured if the drawings matched, it would change everything.”

For a long moment, Val was silent. “And did they match?” he asked finally, softly.