“Are you saying the killer you’re looking for is in this room right now?” Christian Orr asked. He’d been introduced to Zane as Deuce’s best friend from Philadelphia.
“I sure as hell hope so,” Zane drawled.
“Jesus Christ,” Mathew Ferguson shouted. He glanced to the wall, where Deuce stood amongst the other observers. “Deacon, are you serious right now? You’ve known me since we were freshmen in undergrad!”
“Just roll with it, Matt,” Deuce told him. “They’re good, they’ll find out who did this. You got nothing to worry about. Unless you killed someone.”
“Like hell!” Matthew shouted, but he remained seated.
Zane stepped into the corner for another refrain, beckoning Ty, Nick, and Kelly with him. A buzz of nervous conversation started up behind them. “Who the hell do we like for this?” Zane whispered.
Kelly shook his head. “I want to see if I’m right, man.”
“You want to take bets, don’t you?” Nick asked, voice flat.
Ty rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face.
“What we really need is a confession,” Nick said to Zane. “We don’t have anything but hunches here. We need someone to stand up and say they did it.”
“Oh, is that all?” Zane glared at Nick as he moved away again. The other three remained in the corner, watching him.
Zane considered the remaining suspects. Nine now. Three military men trained in the art of combat. Two old men who’d worked on the island all their lives, one who’d lost his wife to this mess. Three privileged, well-educated males from Pennsylvania, one of whom had everything to gain from his father’s death or downfall. And then there was Marley, the adventuring cameraman Emma Grady was willing to vouch for.
“Nick, how long ago was Fraser contacted?” Zane asked.
“He said three weeks.”
“Three weeks. And Livi, you met Nikki Webb when?”
“Two months ago.”
Zane glanced at Emma, narrowing his eyes. “When did your team get shelved?”
“A month ago. Why?”
“When did Deuce ask you to bring your cameraman?”
“Last week, when he invited me to the wedding.”
Zane nodded, narrowing his eyes at Marley King.
The man’s eyes grew wider and he pointed to himself. “I’m a vegetarian,” he said. “I don’t kill things. Hell, I don’t even like cutting my grass, man. That fresh-cut grass smell? That’s plants in distress!”
Kelly moved closer to Zane, lowering his head and crossing his arms. “Burns’s knuckles were f**ked up, man. Whoever he fought with would have bruises starting to show. See if any of them are wearing makeup.”
Zane peered at him. “Makeup?”
Kelly nodded, completely serious.
“What if it was Kline?”
Kelly shrugged. “Got to start somewhere, right?”
Zane took a deep breath. “Anyone got any makeup remover on them?”
Catalina Cruz raised her hand, as did Ashlee, who was sitting beside her. They dug in their purses and produced several disposable wipes. Kelly collected them with murmured thank-yous, then turned to Marley as he took one of the wipes out of its packet.
“I’m not wearing makeup,” Marley told them, chuckling nervously. He waved a hand at his face. “Nobody on this island can match this perfect skin tone.”
Kelly was smiling, but he still gave Marley’s face a few swipes. He examined the wipe, then showed it to Zane.
“Looks like you’re free to go, Mr. King,” Zane said. He was pleased, because he really liked Emma’s cameraman.
“Are you f**king serious with this?” Theo Stanton asked. “Makeup remover?”
“Anyone want to confess and make this go faster?” Nick asked. He was leaning against a side table near the door, arms crossed over his chest.
John English stepped forward. “No, but I’ll volunteer to get my damn face wiped off next.”
“Me too,” Matthew and Christian said in unison.
Zane caught English throwing Ty a wink and a smirk. He knew what needed to happen here, and it seemed he was helping out. Ty appeared to trust the man, so Zane would as well. For now. If he threw Ty another wink they’d be having problems, though.
Kelly went to each man, wiping their faces with the makeup remover wipes. When he approached Theo, the man stood and glared at him.
“You’re not touching me with that.”
Kelly cocked his head, and a slow smile developed on his face.
“Why is that?” Ty asked Theo. “Allergies?”
“No, it’s called civil rights, and I have them. I haven’t killed anyone, Jesus Christ.” He waved imploringly to his father and sister. “This is ridiculous, you both know I’d never do this to our family!”
Nick cleared his throat. “Kelly, put him down.”
Kelly moved with shocking speed, wrapping Theo up and pinning his arm. Then he stepped between Theo’s legs, turned, and dropped to his knees, letting gravity hurl Theo over his shoulder and flatten him on the floor.
Theo lay gasping for breath, shocked into immobility. Livi screamed, and Stanton shouted a wordless protest, but no one else moved.
Zane stepped forward and pulled his gun, pointing it at Theo’s face. “How about you answer some questions the easy way, hmm?”
Theo nodded, still gasping for breath.
“If company secrets were sold, what would happen to the company?”
“We’d lose the DOD contracts. Shareholders would start selling off left and right. We’d be forced to liquidate everything in the following year. In eighteen months, we’d be bankrupt.”
Zane glanced over his shoulder at Stanton.
“He’s right.”
“If I were part of this, I would be digging my own financial grave. The company’s worth billions of dollars; no rival could offer me enough money to give that up, much less betray my family,” Theo said through gritted teeth.
Zane relaxed and stuffed the gun back into his pants. He and Kelly helped Theo up. “Next time just let him wipe your damn face,” Zane said. He gave Theo a shove toward his family and turned to the remaining suspects.
Hamish Boyd pushed to his feet, using his cane to make his way toward Zane. “If you are truly considering me or Mackie as suspects over these hired thugs, you must be a sad example of a Yank policeman.”
“No, that’s me,” Nick broke in. He’d drawn his weapon and had it pointed at Hamish’s head.