Tempest tried to focus. They were so close to getting a confession. She had to stick to the plan, but Moriarty wasn’t part of the plan.
It all made sense now. The timing of when the man she thought of as Moriarty entered her life, the way he’d only helped her in circuitous ways, and how he’d been so secretive but at the same time wanted Tempest to know about a woman she needed to be worried about.
“I believe you know my useless son,” said Catriona. “He should be the one standing here holding a knife to your throat. When you began looking into your mother’s disappearance five years ago, he was supposed to keep an eye on you to see if you’d make the connection to me. But the damn fool fell in love with you instead.”
“Mother, you don’t need to do this. There’s no more live camera feed. They don’t know anything about us, so they won’t be able to find us. Let’s just get out of here. The police will be here soon.”
“The police are arresting Officer Quinn at that pop-up stage right about now, I expect. He’ll be telling them about Tansy—that’s who he thinks contacted him—so they’ll be after her, and they’ll be thinking that Tempest detained an innocent woman and wondering how hard they should prosecute her. They’ll clean up this mess later.”
“Since it’s just us,” said Tempest, “why don’t you tell us what really happened?”
“Right,” Catriona scoffed. “My son is right about one thing. We don’t know how soon they’ll be here.”
“If you hurt her,” Darius growled, “I will hunt you down.”
“Oh, please,” said Catriona. “You’re a teddy bear. All of you are. Except for former detective Blackburn. Son, keep an eye on that one. I know he doesn’t have a gun—I was searching him when I was pretending to squirm as he handcuffed me. But I don’t trust him. Use the duct tape on him.”
Moriarty grimaced.
“What are you waiting for?” Catriona pressed the knife more tightly against Tempest’s neck.
“You’ll never get out of here if you hurt her,” Moriarty said. “Please, Mother. Let her go.”
Catriona snorted. “Not likely. You’re pathetic. Show some backbone and help your mum.”
“You can’t do this anymore,” Moriarty said softly.
“Where was your conscience when I killed those two horrid men last week?” Catriona shrieked.
Tempest smiled. “We got it. That’s the confession we needed.” She gripped the blade of the knife—the fake knife—and pushed it away from her neck.
“I guess I should tell you,” Tempest said to Catriona, “that I swapped your knife for this fake one. When I knelt down at your chair, I substituted it with the closest match among Sanjay’s collection of fake knives. Did you really think Blackburn had missed that when he searched you? Tsk, tsk.”
Catriona gaped at the plastic knife in her hand, then dropped it as a sick smile formed on her lips.
Why was she so pleased with herself?
“Search her more carefully,” Tempest blurted out. “Make sure she’s not hiding any weapons you missed.”
“No matter,” Catriona said, as Darius yanked her away from Tempest and patted her down. “Och, you don’t have to be so rough with me. I’m not hiding anything else. I’m simply pleased with your incompetence. You dinnae have anything recorded! You have nothing.” She spat out the last word. “My son broke your camera. You didn’t get a confession on tape.”
“We have a backup.” Sanjay smirked.
“You mean this one?” Moriarty held up the broken fragments of the video camera Sanjay had hidden in the A/V booth.
Sanjay’s eyes bulged and he choked out a strangled “No!” Ivy gasped. Blackburn groaned. Darius growled. It was a veritable cacophony of frustration, but none of their sounds made any difference. Neither recording had captured Catriona’s confession. Their carefully constructed plan was falling apart.
Darius wound duct tape around Catriona’s wrists more tightly than was necessary for security. Unlike her handcuff confinement, this time she squirmed like she meant it. “This is all your fault!” she screamed at Moriarty.
“You see what I have to put up with?” Moriarty said to Tempest. He slipped into the shadows as Darius moved to duct-tape his wrists as well.
Darius grasped the curtains Moriarty had stepped behind. “Where the hell did he go?”
“Don’t worry about him,” said Tempest.
“I hope you’re right.” Blackburn stepped onto the stage from the wings. “He took our phones, and it looks like he slipped out the greenroom window.”
“Dammit,” Sanjay murmured. “My lucky illustration from a fan is on that phone case.”
“More importantly,” Tempest said as she rolled her eyes at Sanjay, “we can still prove our case against Catriona, even without things being broadcast.” Her voice conveyed a confidence she didn’t feel.
“Um, you guys?” said Gideon. “I didn’t have time to tell you this before we got started, but my neighbor Reggie helped me buy a cell phone this afternoon.” He held up a slim phone that looked so out of place in his calloused stonemason’s hands. “I started recording as soon as everyone else tossed their phones aside. Nobody was looking my way. Everyone knows I don’t own a cell phone, so she overlooked me. I started a livestream as soon as Ivy’s phone was smashed. Reggie showed me how to do that too.”
Tempest blinked at him—and, as she now knew, at the camera. “Everything was recorded after all?”
“No,” Catriona murmured. “No!”
“There are hundreds of comments popping up.” Gideon held the edge of the phone like it was dipped in poison. “I think that means it’s working? They keep coming. Um, how do you deal with this?”
“This is not happening,” Catriona howled.
“Gideon,” said Tempest, “I could kiss you.”
Sanjay scowled. “Let’s not.” He gestured toward Gideon’s phone. “You can’t leave our viewers waiting. Our audience needs the final wrap-up.”
“I believe that’s my cue,” said a newcomer. Nicodemus stepped onto the stage.