Megan chattered while she talked, flattering and questioning in equal measure as she led Mrs. Vink closer to the wrought-iron-and-glass greenhouses she could see in the distance.
Megan had nearly gotten away with it when Mrs. Vink put a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, but that’s as far as we can go. Much of the garden is being renovated in that area, so it’s really not safe for us to explore there.”
“Oh, I see. Of course.” Megan smiled. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“I really must get to my lunch. Ms. Calvo, the owner, is very conscientious of employees taking enough time for breaks during the day. She’s an excellent employer.”
“That’s wonderful to know. Do you mind if I just wander a bit more down the point? I’d love to see if I could spot some whales or dolphins. I haven’t seen either yet.”
Mrs. Vink hesitated.
“I promise I’ll stick to the paths,” she said. “Heaven knows I don’t want to be falling over that edge.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Vink waved a hand. “Guests can wander down there, so I’m sure it’ll be fine if you do. If anyone asks if you’re staying here” —her voice dropped— “just tell them you’re having drinks at the restaurant.”
“Right.” Megan winked at her. “I sure will.”
“Okay! Well, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon.” Courtney Vink waved and turned back to the house while Megan kept on the path that led out to the point. She didn’t need to walk down to the cliffs that overlooked the ocean; she needed to check out the greenhouses south of the hotel. But it made far more sense to walk down to the point and then cut back through the cypress trees rather than make a straight shot for the greenhouses.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
You in? It was Nico.
I’m wandering in the gardens for a while, she texted back. Finally on my own. I’ll have to sneak back to the greenhouses in a bit.
The fog is going to start coming in. Be careful along the point.
It was only two in the afternoon. How thick could the fog get at two?
I’ll be careful.
Nico worried too much. Megan kept walking, past the eucalyptus trees and through an alley of cypress shooting up from the rocky coastline.
She poked her head over the edge, marveling at the deep blue waves crashing on the beach far below and the distant sliver of sand in the curve of the shoreline.
Won’t be seeing surfers on that stretch. The waves looked absolutely brutal.
While Moonstone Cove was a pleasant—if freezing—recreational shoreline, Dolphin Cove belonged to the wild. There was nothing on the beach below but seals and the promise of playful porpoises in the surf.
Megan turned and started back toward the garden, walking along the edge of the trees to conceal her position. The light grew dim as the afternoon fog came in, just as Nico had warned.
She quickly texted Nico. Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, it really does roll in.
We’ll talk about buttering your butt later. Be careful along that bluff.
Seemingly from one moment to the next, the coastline around Dolphin Cove was blanketed in thick grey mist. The sun was still high in the sky, and she could see it shining dimly through the heavy shroud.
Megan decided she could walk faster. After all, if she could barely see anything, neither could anyone else. She kept to the trees and hiked back toward the gardens along the ridge trail, coming at the greenhouses from the back of the estate. When she spotted the cloudy grey glass of the old greenhouses, she texted Nico.
I see them. Now to break in.
Brute strength, remember, Atlanta?
“Brute strength.” She took a deep breath and raised her hands, only to have the wind knocked out of her by a blow to the back that pounded her facedown into the rocky ground. She felt her lip split open and rolled over, quickly dodging another blow from a large wooden plank wielded by Angela Calvo.
“I don’t think we had an appointment to meet today.” Angela pretended to look at her watch. “I guess that means it’s time for you to go.”
Chapter 27
No matter which way she rolled, Angela seemed to meet Megan with a pummeling blow. She scrambled toward the shelter of a cypress tree, ducking under the low-hanging, heavy branches that blocked the swing of the other woman’s plank.
“Do you lift weights?” Angela asked casually.
Megan scurried from one tree under another. “Do I what?”
“Do you lift?” Angela was almost conversational as she stabbed the thick, low branches Megan was hiding behind. “It’s so important for women as we age.”
“Yeah, I enjoy a good dance class” —Megan scrambled back, only to find herself losing her footing on the pebble-strewn ground along the edge of the bluff— “but I’m not a big weight lifter.” If only she could get Angela to hold still. She’d love to yank that board right out of her hand, but it was hard to aim her energy when the target was moving so quickly. It wasn’t like a car or a wall or a post. Angela was fast and unpredictable.
A jab through the tree branches caught Megan’s shoulder. “Fuck!”
“That’s not very ladylike,” Angela said. “I have to say, I underestimated you and your friends.”
“Is this all because of your sister?”
“My sister’s life was ruined because of you three women.”
Megan crawled right into a dense hedge of dried bushes, scratching her legs, arms, and face as she fought her way out of the direct line of Angela’s attack. She pushed her energy out in front of her, trying to clear a tunnel through the dense wild shrubbery.
The ploy seemed to work. She could hear Angela turning in circles and poking random tree branches and bushes near where she’d been hiding.
“Your sister tried to kill people,” Megan shouted. “And she didn’t care because she was going to make millions on a meditation app. There’s a word for that, and it’s psychopath.”
“So?” Angela rushed toward the bushes where Megan’s voice was coming from and stabbed into the brush. “She’s a scientist. All scientific studies have dangers. The students agreed to that in the beginning.”
Megan broke through the line of shrubs and finally made it to her feet. She looked for a weapon—any weapon—and her eyes fell on a rake handle that had seen better days.
Better than nothing.
She grabbed it and turned to face Angela on the pathway next to the greenhouses. A scant five feet on the other side of the path, the bluff gave way and a steep, rocky hillside led nearly straight down to the waves of the Pacific.
Megan glanced at the fog-shrouded ground that led to death and backed away, while Angela Calvo stalked her up the path.
“Alicia worked very hard to build her reputation. Just like Whit planned very carefully to get those beautiful wine caves. And both times, I hear that three middle-aged housewives from a stupid little town in the middle of nowhere spoiled their plans.”
The woman’s hair was pulled back into a smooth ponytail at her neck, and her fitted taupe pantsuit was barely mussed. She was holding the cedar plank she’d used on Megan. She didn’t look angry, she looked incredulous. “You’re nobodies.”