“Sir?” a voice said. I peeked out to see a short man in a sharp uniform standing in the doorway.
“What is it, Tony? Why don’t you have the lights back on yet?” Peter snapped, irritation lining his face as he advanced on poor Tony.
Tony held up the hammer that had been hanging slack at his side. “Someone destroyed the breaker box, sir. Smashed it to bits.”
Peter took the hammer from Tony. My stomach lurched.
“Destroyed it?” he said, almost to the hammer itself, as if he expected it to be able to answer him.
“Yes, sir. It is not fixable tonight. We will need to replace the whole thing. There are also wires loose in the upstairs storage room. Door was unlocked and open.”
Peter’s face twisted. “Wires loose?”
“Yes, sir. Someone wanted the lights out tonight.”
Peter gazed at the hammer again, turning so he could gaze between both Luna and Tony. When he moved, Luna was fully exposed. She looked up, but her stare went past Peter and past Tony, directly across the hall and into the shadows of the bathroom.
I felt my face light up when our eyes connected. Ice filled my entire body. Gray and black ice.
“Who in the world would want to sabotage the Celeste?” Peter asked, still dismayed.
Luna’s reptile eyes glowed as they stayed locked on mine. Her chin was tucked into her chest, her shoulders taut.
“Nikki Kill,” she answered. Then to me, “Boo.”
32
THE FIRST THOUGHT in my mind was that I was trapped. The second thought that Chris would have said he told me so. Both thoughts were blasted away by the third thought, though, and that was, Run.
We all seemed to take off at the same time, Peter knocking Tony to the ground in his haste to get to me. I had to jump over Tony’s chest, my toe nicking his shoulder and pitching me forward. I caught myself just as my fingertips brushed the floor and I churned my feet harder, plunging back into the confused crowd on the dance floor.
Now there were real screams, blossoming from annoyed shouts, as first I shoved through, and then Peter, and then Luna. I bumped into another man in a uniform who was carrying a long Maglite. I grabbed it out of his hands and chucked it backward, watching only long enough to see it glance off Peter’s face. He stumbled, paused, touched his bleeding forehead, and raced forward, the hammer tight in his grip now, his teeth bared in a snarl.
The crowd closed Luna in as we took off even faster.
No plan, Nikki. You have no goddamned plan, I admonished myself as I headed for the grand stairwell. I tipped a vase off a table at the bottom of the steps. It shattered, sending water and flowers and shards of glass across the floor. Anything to slow Peter down. Anything to give me time.
My lungs felt like they were on fire, and I wished I hadn’t had that cigarette earlier that day. Mostly, I wished Chris was here to help me out. It was one thing to think you could beat Peter Fairchild at his own game; it was another to be faced with him, especially when he was brandishing a hammer at you.
I got off on the floor where I’d hidden under the stairs and ran directly into a woman who had been standing at the top of the stairs, peering down curiously. We landed in a tangle on the floor, and I rolled wildly to get off her. I could hear Peter’s feet nearing as I raced down the hall toward the utility stairs that had been my safe space all day. I heard someone yell, “That way!” and cursed under my breath. Nobody on this ship knew who the real bad guy was.
I paused only for the briefest moment, my shoes skidding on the floor. I didn’t have time for decision making. I had to just choose: up or down. I chose up.
When I reached the top deck, I slammed the stairwell door shut. Three women in bikinis startled and then hurried toward the grand staircase when they saw me coming. I was breathing so hard my throat felt hot, and I was desperately looking around for a way to protect myself.
“No,” I said between breaths, reaching out to the women. Ragged, scary. “Help me.”
But the women left anyway. I was alone with the wind and the ocean and nowhere to go to get away from Peter Fairchild.
33
IT WAS JUST moments before Peter wrenched the door open. I raced behind a lounge chair and picked up a heavy deck umbrella. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but at least it was something. I clutched it in front of me so hard my arm muscles ached.
Peter came toward me, still holding the hammer. His face was an evil snarl. He walked with an unsteady gait, as if his legs had been weakened by the run. He was breathing just as hard as I was, but his breath wasn’t coming out like asphalt. It was belching out of him in outraged feathery fern and ink. The wind blew my hair across my face, and I tossed my head to get it out of my line of sight.
I swung the umbrella at him with everything I had. I missed by miles, of course, but it slowed him down. I walked backward, knowing that before too long I would be up against the ship’s rail and would be out of options. I would have to fight back or die.
“I should have known,” he said, his hand tightening around the hammer so that I could hear his skin creak against the wood. “I should have known it would be you. You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, Nikki. You couldn’t leave Luna alone.”
I swung the umbrella at him again. “Everyone thinks Luna’s long gone.”
“She could have been,” he spat. “After that shitty studio in Vegas turned her down, we found the perfect actress. Such a resemblance, and easy to get rid of. We spent thousands on cheekbones and a nose job. The transformation was perfection, and finally she had what she always wanted. A chance in Hollywood. That was all she wanted—a chance. And first her bitch stepsister took that from her. And then you. You took that from her. She was starting over. And you’re back. You won’t be satisfied until we kill you, too.” He swung the hammer and missed.
“I wasn’t following Luna,” I said. A small lie. I wasn’t sure where I was going with it. I was only sure that it was buying me time. “I was following you.”
He paused but only a little. “Why?”
I swung the umbrella, twice. “You know who killed my mother,” I said. “You were there. I wanted to know if it was my father.”
He stopped for real this time, lowered the hammer, and laughed. “Milo?” He laughed again. “Milo couldn’t put a match out with a fire hose. No, he didn’t kill her.”
“Bill Hollis, then,” I said. My arms were killing me.
His face drew itself into a hateful line. “No. Believe it or not, Bill Hollis did not run the entire world. Even if he thought he did.”
I shook my head, uncomprehendingly. “Then who?” I asked.
“She was mine,” he bellowed.
“My mother?”
“No, you stupid girl. I didn’t want your used-up mother. Vanessa was mine. I would have done anything for her. And I did.” He pounded the air with the hammer as he talked. “I supported her. I ruined careers for her. I hurt people for her. Anything she asked for. We were Vanessa and Peter. We were VP.”
Candy cane and mustard lit up in my mind. He wasn’t the vice president of anything. He was still holding a torch for Vanessa Hollis.
“And then she left me. Met that bastard, Bill Hollis, and left me. Hired that moron Basile and he started doing my job. I was out, stuck with a snot-nosed kid who looked exactly like the woman I wanted. The one I rightfully deserved.” He pointed to his chest with the hammer. The movement startled me, and I thrust the umbrella forward again.