Kia shook her head, the tears finally slipping from her eyes. Harold was as insane as his daughter had ever been. Perhaps more so.
“What are you talking about?” She gasped as the knife bit into her waist.
“That son of a bitch killed my baby,” he snarled. “My little girl. She was my only light, Kia. My sweet little baby—and he killed her. He put a bullet right between her eyes, and everyone covered it up. The police let him get away with it. Everyone did. I won’t.”
His hazel eyes gleamed with madness as the elevator neared its destination.
“You have once chance,” he told her. “If Chase comes for you. That’s your only chance. When he does, keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told. Do you hear me?”
The elevator stopped. Kia felt the dampness of blood running into her dress. The knife was pressing into her, reminding her how delicate her position was.
She followed Brockheim, his hand bruising her arm as he led her down the silent hallway. Everyone had known Moriah was crazy. Once, when Kia was a child, Moriah had become hysterical when a favorite pet of hers had liked Kia during a visit. She had tried to push Kia down the long, winding stairs of the Brockheim mansion because of it. Weeks later, servant gossip had come back to Kia’s parents that the puppy had been found, stabbed to death.
It looked like the daughter had learned her love of knives from the father.
“Here’s the key.” Brockheim stopped in front of a door. “Open the door.”
Kia took the key and slid it carefully along the security panel. Once inside, he would have to relax his guard. He was an old man. If she could get the tip of the knife out of her side, then perhaps she could have at least a fighting chance. That was all she needed.
She couldn’t let Chase come up here. She couldn’t allow Brockheim to force Chase into killing him. And she was terrified that was exactly what would happen.
If Chase had, for whatever reason, been forced to kill Moriah, then it explained so much about his hesitancy in a relationship with Kia.
Everyone knew Chase had been fond of Moriah. He had been close to Moriah, then had been forced to kill her.. There had even been speculation for a while as to whether or not he would become involved with her.
“Get in the room.” He pushed her inside as he flipped on the lights, and before she could do more than stumble he flung her away.
Kia turned, ready to fight, and found herself staring into the barrel of the gun he held in his hand.
“I’m smart.” He smiled. “So much smarter than your bastard lover. I’m going to kill you and let him watch you die. And then I’m going to kill him. Moriah won’t have to be alone anymore. She’ll have the two you to keep her company. The friend she lost, and the man she loved. The man who killed her.”
25
“I was just going to kill you and let him suffer.” Harold sighed, his hazel eyes wet with tears as Kia backed up, staring at the gun in terror. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how lonely Moriah must be right now. None of her family and she didn’t have many friends. She’s with people she doesn’t know. She never liked that.”
God, he was crazy. Kia stared back at him in horror. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Sweet Mr. Brockheim? He was as crazy as his daughter had been, and no one had suspected it.
“And no one will ever suspect it’s me,” he told her. “I’m very good with security and computers. A genius, actually. I reserved this room in Chase’s name, and the security cameras won’t show anything for hours yet. I’m perfectly safe.”
“Moriah wouldn’t want you to do this,” she whispered.
He stared back at her in saddened disbelief. “You know better than that, Kia. Moriah would have wanted you right by her side. That way, you can watch her steal Chase’s heart. He should have been with her from the beginning, I see that now. But I can’t let him go without hurting him. Without making him hurt first. Moriah will understand that.”
“Killing me won’t hurt Chase,” Kia whispered.
“Yes, it will.” He sat down heavily in one of the chairs, the gun still trained on her. “He thinks he loves you. For the few minutes I allow him to live, long enough to realize you’re gone forever, then he’ll know how much it hurts.”
Kia gripped the skirt of her dress in her fingers, fisting them as she sought to find a way out of this.
“How can you believe Chase would kill Moriah?” she asked. Carefully. “He cared about her, Harold. Chase would never hurt anyone he cared for.”
As though there was too much energy inside him, Harold rose to his feet once more.
“The reports were in the newspaper,” she continued. “The detective had to shoot her when she tried to kill Congressman Roberts.”
His face twisted in pain.
“No, that’s not what happened,” he yelled back at her. “Chase was there. That son of a bitch shot and killed my baby. He killed her, because she knew things, things he didn’t want known.”
“Chase wouldn’t have cared what she knew, Harold,” she argued back. “You have to listen to me. Everyone knows how much Chase cared for Moriah. Everyone. He wouldn’t have hurt her.”
His gaze flickered, and for the briefest moment Kia thought she might have seen a bit of sanity there. Then his eyes glazed over again and fury flamed from them.
“I know the truth,” he spat out. “Even Annalee tried to lie to me. Tried to tell me Moriah wanted to kill them, wanted to kill that whore of Cameron’s because she couldn’t have her way. That wasn’t why.”
“Chase wouldn’t hurt her,” she whispered again, desperate now. The gun never wavered, it followed her, no matter which way she moved.
“Chase had to kill Moriah,” Brockheim cried out. “She knew the truth. I found it, in her journals. That dirty brother of his was nothing more than a gigolo when he was a boy. A filthy man-whore and Moriah knew. She was trying to protect Annalee and Richard. She wanted to protect them and Chase killed her. They all betrayed my daughter.”
His finger remained on the trigger. Kia felt her heart racing, a sob rising in her throat. She had to find a way to get away from him, a way to get past him and that gun. And the next time she saw Chase, they were going to have to have a little talk. Little things like him killing crazy Moriah Brockheim. She needed to know about that.
“Moriah was sick,” she said softly. “You know she was ill, Harold. She needed help. She tried to kill them.”
“You fucking whore. Fucking lying whore.” It wasn’t the gun or a bullet that struck her, but the back of his hand.
Stars exploded in her eyes as she fell to the floor. Pain radiated from the side of her face, along the rest of her body, and into her head.
She lay there, trying to breathe through the pain. She tasted blood in her mouth. Great. Just great.
She opened her eyes and glared up at Harold. So help me. She was getting damned sick of pissed-off men backhanding her. First Drew and now this nutcase.
“Shut up or I’ll kill you.” The gun was leveled at her head as Harold Brockheim stared down at her with malevolent fury. “Do you hear me, you little tramp? I’ll fucking kill you.”
He couldn’t find her. Chase searched the ballroom, dining room, the lobby, and sent Jaci and Courtney into the ladies’ room.
He had the phone to his ear, a three-way call between him, Cameron, and Khalid, with Khalid linking Ian in.
“She’s not here!” He stared around the lobby. He’d questioned everyone there. No one had seen her. “She wouldn’t have left the hotel.”