Page 156 of Summers at the Saint
KJ made an expansive gesture with both hands. “He took a cut of everything. I was the noob—you know, the new guy—so I wasn’t in on everything. But I heard he made a lot of money when the hotel was being renovated. Garrett said anybody who did business with the Saint had to do business with Charlie first.”
“That included the seafood and meat wholesalers in the restaurant?”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Whose idea was it to burn down the dorm?” she asked.
He grimaced. “That was Garrett. Livvy, she thought she was some kind of detective. She used to watch all those true-crime shows and listen to murder podcasts. Her and Felice kept poking around, asking questions.”
“He figured Felice and Livvy knew about his operation?”
“Yeah. He found out they’d talked to one of his old girlfriends and she told them a bunch of stuff. Garrett said if we didn’t do something, right away, we’d go to prison.”
Traci leaned forward, trying to get him to look her in the face, but he still averted his eyes. “Tell me about the fire. How did you do it?”
KJ looked down at his hands again, clenching and unclenching them. “Sunday, after the girls left, we went in and put the roofies in everything in the fridge. Felice’s kombucha, Livvy’s open bottle of wine, a bottle of Dr Pepper, all of it. We waited until we figured the girls were zonked out, then we snuck back into the dorm. There was a load of towels already in the dryer. We soaked them in kerosene, then set the dryer on high. Because it was a gas dryer, it was supposed to blow up, once it got hot enough inside.”
KJ gingerly touched his bruised jaw.
“How’d you get those bruises?” she asked.
“Garrett was really pissed because he saw Livvy searched his room. He had one of those little hidden camera things, and he watched her on his phone. We were supposed to leave after we did the dryer thing, but he dragged out some more towels and clothes and put ’em around the dorm and outside their rooms, and sprinkled kerosene there too. I didn’t know it, but he’d brought along these little spike things, and he stuck them in the locks on their doors, so they couldn’t get out.”
“You mean, so they’d be burned alive?” Traci’s stomach churned as she pictured what could have happened.
“I told him that was taking it too far. He threw some punches, called me a fruity little titty-baby.” KJ rubbed his bruised jaw.
“Then we went out to the woods to wait. By then, Garrett had cooled down. We smoked some weed ’cuz we were both pretty amped up.”
“Was Charlie there?” she asked.
“He told us he’d meet up with us and give us some money to get away. But he ghosted us.”
“How long did you wait?”
“Dunno. I fell asleep. I woke up when the dryer exploded. Flames were shooting out of the kitchen windows. Garrett took off on the golf cart. He left me behind.”
No honor among thieves,Traci thought.
“Where did Garrett go?”
KJ ran his fingers through his greasy hair again. He looked nothing like the puppy-eyed frat boy who’d reported to work at the Saint in his pop-collared polo shirt and boat shoes only a month earlier.
“Not sure. To his girlfriend’s, maybe?”
“The one who works at the Saint’s spa?” she asked.
KJ laughed bitterly. “Who knows? He was boning a lot of chicks in town.”
“Why didn’t you leave when Garrett did?”
He put his head down on the conference table, cradling it in both hands.
“Don’t know.” His voice was muffled.
“Come on,” Traci said, making an effort not to lose her temper. She glanced toward the one-way mirror, knowing Shapley was on the other side, silently willing her to get to the most urgent issue at hand.
“You know what I think?” she said softly. “I think maybe you’re not like Charlie or Garrett. You’re a decent person who made some bad decisions.”
