11
Bria had us run through the story again and asked Kincaid several more questions, but he claimed not to know anything useful, like why Salina had killed Arkadi, who she might go after next, or what else she might be up to. He didn’t mention that he thought Salina wanted to murder him so she could take over his business interests. I supposed Kincaid wasn’t any more comfortable sharing information with the po-po than I was.
Despite his lack of answers, Bria did the good-cop thing and offered the casino boss police protection, which he declined. Couldn’t blame him for that. Most of the cops would have sold him out in a second to his enemies, if the payday were big enough.
Finally, Bria declared that she was done with Kincaid and headed over to see if the coroner was finished examining Antonio’s body yet.
Owen pulled his keys out of his pocket and handed them to his sister. “Eva, go on down to the car. You too, Violet.”
“Packed up,” Sophia murmured, pointing to the supplies she’d managed to salvage.
I nodded at the dwarf. “Thank you.”
Eva shot Kincaid a sympathetic look, but for once she didn’t argue with her brother. The girls grabbed a few of the lighter supply boxes, while Sophia carried the heavier ones, and the three of them walked down the gangplank and out of sight. Owen turned to me, but I beat him to the punch.
“Go on ahead and look after the girls,” I said. “I want to talk to Kincaid for a minute.”
Owen stared at the other man, then at me. “Gin, I can explain all of this. It’s not what it seems like. Whatever he’s told you, it’s a lie. He hates Salina. He’s had it in for her for years. Even if she really did try to kill Phillip tonight, well, it was no less than he deserved after what he did to her.”
“And Antonio?” I asked in a soft voice. “Did he deserve what Salina did to him too?”
Maybe me questioning a murder was strange, given all the people I’d killed myself. But when I went after someone, I put him down as quickly as possible. No drawing things out for my own amusement. No toying with my targets. No torture. But Salina had done all those things tonight. I wondered how long she would have played her choking game with Kincaid if I hadn’t frozen her water noose. I was willing to bet she would have made his death throes last as long as she could.
Owen looked over at the dead giant. The coroner had removed the tablecloth and was trying to figure out some way to lift Antonio’s slack, floppy remains into a black body bag without spilling him everywhere. Owen’s jaw clenched, and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have an answer for that one.
“Just be careful, okay?” he said. “Kincaid fooled me for years, and it looks like he still has Eva fooled.”
I nodded. “Don’t worry. I can handle myself.”
Owen didn’t like it, but he headed across the deck and trudged down the gangplank. That left me and Kincaid standing by ourselves while the cops milled around Antonio’s body.
“Well, that was just as unpleasant as I thought it would be,” Kincaid murmured. “And here I am without my drink to console me.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I leaned back against the railing, more than willing to wait him out. Ten seconds passed as we looked at each other, then twenty . . . thirty . . . forty-five . . .
Kincaid had more patience than I’d imagined, because he made it to the ninety-second mark before he opened his mouth again. “So what was it you wanted to speak to me about?”
I cocked my head to the side. “You are one clever bastard, aren’t you, Philly?”
A humorless smile lifted his lips. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re talking about.”
I held my hands out. “I’m talking about this, tonight, and this little spectacle you engineered.”
“Please,” Kincaid sneered. “Enlighten me once again. Because I am not in the business of engineering spectacles of any sort.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared him down. “Here are the facts. Four days ago, Katarina Arkadi was murdered, most likely by your mysterious water elemental friend, Salina Dubois, for whatever reason. She didn’t like Katarina, she knew the two of you had business dealings together, whatever. The next day—the very next fucking day—you stroll into the Pork Pit and offer me an obscene amount of money to cater an event on the Delta Queen. Strange enough, but then I find out that instead of hosting some swanky society gala, you’ve actually let college students take over your casino. Not only that, but I find you looking oh so cozy with Eva.”
“So what?” Kincaid scoffed.
“So, this whole time, I thought you were running some scheme, plotting some way to kill me and dump my body in the river. Hell, I thought you might even be in cahoots with Jonah McAllister. Whatever your motives, taking out the Spider would go a long way toward cementing your position as the new king of the Ashland underworld.”
Kincaid shrugged, modestly agreeing with me.
“But that’s not it at all. You don’t care one damn thing about killing me. After I saved your ass, I thought maybe you wanted me here in case Salina made a move against you, as sort of a backup bodyguard just on the chance she managed to slip past your giants. Although, if that was true, you were taking a big risk, counting on me to save your miserable hide when we’ve never said so much as how do you do to each other. But in a way, that was true. You wanted me here tonight to protect someone, but it wasn’t you—it was Eva.”
I’d give Kincaid this—he had a hell of a poker face. The only thing that gave him away was a faint narrowing of his eyes. If I hadn’t been watching for it, I would have missed it altogether. But I knew I’d struck a nerve, and I decided to press my advantage.
“Now, Eva’s a beautiful girl, and I’m sure you enjoy smooth-talking the ladies as much as the next guy. But for some reason I don’t fathom, you actually seem to care about Eva—quite deeply, from the way you were comforting her. You should have kept your distance, Philly. You gave yourself away, holding her like you did.”
He opened his mouth to deny it or perhaps make some snide quip, but I cut him off.
“Don’t play games with me, Kincaid. Eva and Owen are my family, and they’re in neck-deep with whatever feud you have going on with Salina. And if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s this—that I take care of the people I love, no matter what.”
Kincaid looked at me, then let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Well, apparently I’m not as clever as I thought I was.”
“No,” I said in a quiet voice. “No one ever is.”
By this point, the coroner had managed to scoop Antonio’s remains into the body bag. We watched while he zipped it up and got his assistant to help him load it onto a gurney, which the assistant pushed across the deck. Kincaid winced as the wheels rattled over the wood. I wondered if he was thinking that it could have just as easily been him inside that body bag tonight.
“Look,” he finally said. “Owen’s right about one thing. Salina and I never liked each other, but I’m not the villain he thinks I am. It was Salina—it was always Salina. She could twist Owen around her finger like nobody else ever could, not even Eva. So if I were you, Gin, I’d worry less about me and more about her. Because now that she’s back in Ashland, it’s only a matter of time before she sets her sights on your boy again. And believe me when I tell you that Salina Dubois will do whatever she has to in order to get what she wants.”
His ominous warning delivered, the casino boss stalked over to one of his giants and started speaking to the other man in a low voice. A few feet away, Bria was talking with the coroner, while Xavier was taking statements from some of the giants who’d been on deck when Antonio was wrung out like a wet dishrag. I glanced over the railing. Down below in the parking lot, Violet was helping Sophia put the last of the supplies from the Pork Pit into the dwarf’s convertible, while Owen and Eva stood off to one side, arguing.
I looked at them all in turn, thinking. Then I pulled out my cell phone and called Finn again. He must have been waiting by the phone, because he picked up after the first ring.
“Gin? What’s happening? What’s going on?” Finn asked. “Have you killed Kincaid yet?”
“Sadly, no.”
“Why not?”
I let out a breath. “Because as shocking as this sounds, he’s actually the victim tonight—and has some strange connection to Owen and Eva. Right now, I’m not sure if I know the bad guy from the worse guy.”
“Who could be worse than Kincaid?” Finn asked.
“Salina Dubois,” I said. “I want you to get your hands on everything you can about her. Right now. Then meet me at Fletcher’s house. And you might want to put a pot of coffee on when you get there. It’s going to be a long night.”