“Why are you going?”

  Nelson pointed at the house. “You see how that looks, with all the tape around it? Would you want to sleep in there after what happened?”

  She followed his gaze and a wave of compassion rolled through her. If he was innocent, then Marge’s death had probably hit him hard, regardless of the state of their marriage. Dealing with death was never easy. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to stay there either.”

  “I didn’t think so. I need to clear my head for a few days. I’m sure you’re fine since they never impounded your van.”

  Skye crossed her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He looked at her and narrowed his eyes. “Do you have a godfather protecting you?”

  “What?” Skye shrieked. “Look, I had nothing to do with this! It’s about time you understood that.”

  Nelson chuckled. “I’m foolish to think you’d admit it.”

  Skye gasped. “You know, I could ask you the same thing. It’s usually the spouse who’s the first suspect in such murders, but you were hardly interrogated. Who’s protecting you?”

  Nelson stood up. “I don’t have time for this.” He slammed the trunk shut.

  A wave of regret washed over Skye. This wasn’t going the way she’d intended. If she wanted answers, she needed to put her emotions aside. That meant ignoring his jabs and staying focused on her questions.

  “Look, I apologize. I know it’s hard to get over a loss, and I feel for you. It’s an active investigation, so let’s wait and see what the cops come up with before drawing conclusions.” Skye paused, licking her lips. “How are the funeral arrangements?”

  Nelson hesitated, as if weighing her sincerity, before turning to her. “They’re moving along. Part of her family is in town. They’re from Mombasa, so that’s another reason why I’m going there.”

  “Has the autopsy been done?”

  “Happened this morning.”

  Skye’s eyes widened. That was faster than she’d expected. “Oh, okay. What were the findings?”

  “Frankly, that’s for me and the family to know.” Nelson gave her a smug look.

  “Fair enough.” Skye paused again. “You know, I am curious. What was the secret?”

  Nelson eyed her. “What secret?”

  “The secret to your marriage.”

  Skye watched Nelson sigh and rub the back of his head. “Oh. Well, we took it a day at a time. We’d been together for years. It’s hard to believe she’s gone. I mean, she wasn’t perfect, and we were far from great together, but we made it work.”

  Skye was dissatisfied but didn’t have anything else in the tank. “Sounds simple and practical.”

  “It’s far from simple. To stay sane, keep it practical,” Nelson replied. “I’ve got to go.”

  He walked to the driver’s door and opened it, then turned and looked at her. “Also, if I were you, I wouldn’t get out of town. Just in case they found some evidence at the postmortem.” He got in, fired up the car, and drove off into the night.

  His words made Skye’s lips dry. Was he implying that they’d found something at the autopsy to use against her? Or was he just trying to scare her? As she returned to her van, she decided it had to be the latter. Just as she was about to turn on the ignition, the sight of the beach house caught her eye. There it was, alone and empty. Her eyes scanned to the right and left. The street traffic thinned out in the evenings, so very few vehicles and people were present.

  “A little peek won’t hurt,” she whispered to herself.

  She was about to get out when a set of headlights blurred her vision. A car slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road, stopping at the exact spot where Nelson had parked earlier.

  Skye didn’t know who it was, so she instinctively ducked, hoping she hadn’t been seen. She heard the engine go off and the driver’s door open. There was the sound of footsteps and then the door closed. It was definitely just one person. She pricked her ears to hear every movement. Fortunately, it didn’t sound like the person was approaching the van.

  Moments later, she jumped when she heard a loud, strong knock on the metal frame of Marge’s gate. A pause, then another series of knocks.

  Skye slowly raised her head, careful not to lift it into full view.

  She gasped at what she saw. Standing outside the gate was the silhouette of a man with a ponytail.

  10

  Still keeping her head low, Skye studied the man. She remembered Curilla’s words about the man with a ponytail walking away from the van and it dawned on her—if the man recognized her van, he might approach it once more. Skye’s heart started to pound as she tried to decide what she should do.

  The man knocked on the gate again before he reached through the small slot that led to the lock. To Skye’s surprise, he opened the gate and disappeared inside. Soon, she could hear him banging on the front door. She wondered if he would go around to the back of the house to try that door too.

  Skye chewed her lip. It was only a matter of time before he would run out of patience and walk back to his car. At that point, he might approach the van and find her inside. Her best bet was to get out of there.

  Gingerly, she eased open the heavy van door, got out, and tried to close it without making any noise. It didn’t really snap into place, but that was all she needed to avoid attention. She clung to the shadows until he started walking back toward the gate. That was when Skye decided to change her plans. Instead of hiding, she chose the opposite. She needed to know what he looked like, and the only way to do this was to face him.

  Decision made, Skye took a deep breath and stood tall, chin held high. By the time he came out, she was already walking up to the gate. She hoped that if he was the killer, he wouldn’t attack her in the middle of the street.

  “Hi there. I live across the street,” Skye said, pointing at Curilla’s house. “I noticed you knocking.”

  The man gave her the once-over. “Yeah, I was looking for Marge. It’s either she’s asleep or has gone on a trip.”

  His words gave Skye pause. He had to have been the man outside of her van the night Marge was killed, but he sure acted like he didn’t know she was dead. Skye decided to play along. “Oh, I don’t think they’re around. I just saw her husband leave about half an hour ago with bags in the trunk. You might be right about the vacation.”

  The man groaned in frustration. “She’s not supposed to do that!” He took out his phone and dialed a number. Skye assumed he was trying to call Marge. “Her phone is off.”

  “What did you need from her?” Skye asked.

  “She owes me money—a lot of money—and all she’s been doing the past eight months is playing these games.”

  “What kind of games?”

  “Like these,” he said, gesturing to the yellow crime scene tape. “Last time, she had renovation notices all around this place. Another time, she claimed she had a relative sick out of town.” He shook his head, rolling his eyes. “She even once hid away in her house while telling me she was out of the country. Now this? She’s taken it too far.” He kicked the gate.

  Skye continued to play along, although it felt sinister to withhold the fact that the tape was real and Marge was dead.

  “I can tell you for sure that this time, they’re not around. What was the money for?”

  The man eyed her before responding. “Just our private business dealings.” He walked to his car.

  Skye followed. “Why don’t you give me your number or card? I can let you know when they come around.”

  The man hesitated then reached into his wallet and handed her a card. “I’d appreciate it. Just drop me a text or call, a heads-up is all I need.”

  “Sure thing,” Skye assured him.

  She crossed the street as if going back to Curilla’s house. Once he had driven off, she turned back and went to her van. Though she was tempted, she waited to read the card until she was inside. Martin Vega, investment consultant. What kind of investments was he into? She needed to find a way to meet him again, this time with more questions and hopefully more answers. Like whether he was on her property the night of Marge’s death.

  Skye took out her phone and called Kris.

  “You won’t believe what just happened,” Skye began.

  “Let me guess, you found Ponytail Guy?” Kris teased.

  “Actually, yeah. I met Ponytail Guy.”

  “Girl! Quit playing.”

  “I’m serious. He just left a minute ago.”

  Kris exhaled. “You what? How?”

  “He came by Marge’s house, looking for her. This was after I ran into Nelson too.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  Skye laughed. “I’m dead serious. Nelson’s driving out of town as we speak. He says he’s driving to relatives to Mombasa, but I think he might be on the run.”

  “Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “How do you expect me to do that?”

  Kris hesitated. “Fair point. But tell me about Ponytail Guy. You saw him or met him?”

  “We spoke. Get this—he was looking for Marge. Apparently, he doesn’t know she’s dead. Or at least, he acted like he didn’t know. He told me she owed him a lot of money.” Skye glanced at the card again. “His name is Martin Vega. Sounds familiar?”

  “No, I have no idea who that is, but I can make a few calls. Did you check his shoe size?”

  Skye put a palm to her forehead. “Oh, heck. I forgot. He caught me off guard, and I had to make up a story.”

  Kris chuckled. “You can give me all the juicy details later. You’re coming home, right? Because I have some news for you too.”

  Home. That word filled Skye with such longing. She was tired of hotels, and while she was thankful to stay at Kris’s apartment, she needed to find a better solution—soon. Of course, she also needed to figure out who killed Marge or else her new home could be a prison cell.

  Skye blinked to refocus. “What news?”

  “I got through to Linus Pende at the council office. We’re meeting him tomorrow at eleven.” Kris paused for a moment. “But I want to hear more about Ponytail Guy, so come home and fill me in.”

  When she got to Kris’s place, Skye told her everything that had happened over a dinner of chicken biryani. It was so yummy and comforting that Skye felt relaxed for the first time in days. The whole evening ended up being relaxing. Since Kris didn’t have to work the next day, they stayed up late reliving the day’s happenings and then slept in the next morning.

  At half past ten, they showed up at the Fedha town council offices, a two-story colonial house. Other than majestic columns, it was as bland as government buildings tended to be.

  “So, you told him you have a land issue?” Skye asked as they waited outside Linus Pende’s office.

  “Correction—I’m a deeply troubled resident with a land issue. Hopefully, he doesn’t remember me from the other day,” Kris replied.

  “Don’t hold your breath. He’ll remember me and then you by association.”

  “If that happens, we’ll play it straight. There’s no point in going round in circles.”

  Linus Pende’s office was medium sized, with metal filing cabinets covering almost every inch of its four walls. He sat in the middle of it, comfortable in a polished leather chair behind ornate desk. A laptop was propped on top with a stack of files on either side. He had rolled-up sleeves and was reading something on his laptop screen when the receptionist ushered them in.

  “Please have a seat,” he said without looking up.

  Skye and Kris sat in the two available visitors’ chairs and waited. Skye noted that he seemed pensive, as if he was reading some bad news.

  Linus sighed, leaned back, and raised his eyes. “Welcome. Which of you is Kris?”

  “I am,” Kris replied. “We spoke on the phone about the land issue.”

  It was at this point that Linus squinted and leaned forward. “I know you two. Marge had an issue with your beach plot.”

  Skye nodded. “Yeah, that’s us. We’re here to talk to you about that and about Marge.”

  Linus stiffened his jaw and sat back in his chair. “Why should I talk to you if you had something to do with her death?”

  “Hang on! The police are still investigating,” Skye pointed out. “And for the record, I had nothing to do with it. But I am curious that maybe you know something.”

  “Like what?” Linus asked.

  “That’s what I’d like to know too,” Skye replied.

  “Ordinarily, I’d force you to leave, but I’ve also been waiting for a chance to talk to you.” He pushed back from his desk and stood up. “You have something I want, and I have something you need. Perfect situation for a deal, don’t you think?” he asked with a sly grin.

  Red flags went off in Skye’s mind, and she wondered if they had walked into a trap.

  11

  Skye turned to Kris, who shrugged.

  “What do you want from us, and what do you think we need?” Skye asked.

  “Let’s start with what I want.” Linus started walking around his office. “Beach properties are amazing assets. Quite the gem if you have one in your hands. Everyone wants one, both locals and tourists. It’s the best of both worlds—valuable land with an unlimited view of the water. You don’t need to farm on it, and yet it will keep filling your pockets with cash if you play your cards right.”

  He paused, turning his gaze from Skye to Kris and back, before continuing. “So, I’ve got a friend. Let’s call him George. George runs real estate and logistics businesses and has deep pockets. Very deep pockets. He’s been looking for a beach plot for the past three months. I’ve shown him a few, but he’s not yet⁠—”

  Skye cut him off. “My property isn’t for sale.”

  “At least let me finish the story.” Linus smiled wryly. “He’s driven past your plot a few times this week and loves every inch of it. In fact, he’s obsessed with it. He’s willing to move heaven and earth—or should I say, drain some of his accounts—to get it. He’s open to paying three times what it’s worth.” He shrugged one shoulder. “All you have to do is give him a number.”

  Skye raised her eyebrows. Why did everyone want to control what she did with the land? All she wanted to do was build her own place and be left alone. On the flip side, she couldn’t deny that she needed the cash. She’d flown into Kenya and spent a good chunk of her savings buying back the property and financing the motel’s construction. She still had some money to spare, but it would probably only last for three months. Getting a sustainable income source was a priority. But this deal Linus was talking about? The offer sounded too good to be true.

  “What’s the catch?” Skye asked.

  “With the sale? None. You state your price and get your money. Cash. You’ll need to sign off on it, of course.”

  “Well, like I said before, it’s not for sale.”

  Linus smiled. “Listen, I know I caught you off guard. Sleep on it. You can give me a decision in twenty-four hours.”

  Skye paused, pressing her lips together. An idea hit her. Two could play this game. “Okay, but I’ll need some motivation.”

  “Like what?” Linus asked.

  “You’ll have to answer some of my questions,” Skye replied.

  Linus went back to his leather chair. “Go ahead. Ask away.”

  “How did you find out that Marge died?”

  “Her husband called me. He wanted her workmates to know.”

  Skye narrowed her eyes. “But you showed up there pretty fast.”

  Linus leaned forward and clasped his hands together on the desk. “What can I say? It’s a small town. Driving there in less than five minutes on a good day is very doable.”

  Skye nodded. “Fair enough. How did you feel when you heard the news?”

  Linus’s eyes widened. “Shock. Disbelief. That’s why I had to see it for myself.”

  “Do you feel the same way now?”

  He paused and shrugged a little. “Not really. I guess it’s hit home. Life has to go on,” he said in a monotone.

  Skye was curious about this indifference. “How was it working with her?”

  He leaned back in his chair and looked up as he spoke, as if reflecting back on his time with Marge. “She was special. Larger than life. Stubborn. She had a way of doing things that always ensured she won in the end.” He dropped his gaze to look at Skye. “Challenging her wasn’t advised. She wasn’t one to follow the rules. The goal was all that mattered. It was unorthodox, but we got things done. This made her more enemies than friends.”

  As she listened to him talk, Skye started to wonder if there were other people who wanted Marge dead. If other people had challenged her—and based on what Linus said, that was likely the case—then a lot of people may have wanted Marge dead. That realization was good…and bad. How was Skye going to find the real killer? Maybe Linus had some ideas.

  Skye exhaled. “Speaking of enemies, it sounds like you might know a few of Marge’s enemies. Care to share who could have done this to her?”

  Linus grinned. “I think I’ve said enough for now.” His eyes brightened. “You know what? I’ll share that list when you agree to sell. How’s that for motivation?”

  Skye pursed her lips. Linus was all about playing games, and that wasn’t Skye’s style. He’d left a bad taste in her mouth. She stood. “Thank you for your time.”

  Linus held out his business card. “Call me on this number when you’re ready.”

  Skye didn’t want to take it because she wasn’t planning on changing her mind, but she took it anyway. Keeping him hopeful was important at this point.

  “Thanks,” Skye said.

  As they walked back to the van, the midday sun was scorching. The van, parked in the sun, was so hot inside that they opened the doors and waited for it to cool before getting in.

  “What did you think?” Skye asked.

  “I should be asking you,” Kris replied.

  “Well, since I did all the talking, you did most of the listening. You might have a better perspective.”