by Terri Reed
“Your great-grandfather.”
Wonder filled Caroline. All around her was evidence of ancestors whose DNA she shared. But she lacked any history with them. She didn’t belong here. “By blood. But can I really claim this family when I’ve never known them?”
Her family was in New Hampshire. Her history was with the Tullys.
She moved down the row of gravesites, spotting Isabella’s.
“You have a chance to know some of the Maddoxes now.”
Don’s softly spoken words lanced through her as she dropped to her knees in front of Isabella’s headstone. “Ever since I was little I never felt like I belonged anywhere. Don’t get me wrong, my parents are great and I love them dearly.” She hadn’t realized how much until coming to Mississippi. “But sometimes…I wondered who my birth mother was, why she gave me away. Was there something wrong me?”
Don crouched beside her. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
The fierceness of his tone touched her, made her believe he cared for her and not just because she was paying him to. She wasn’t sure she was ready to look closely at what that could mean for her, for them.
Mary’s words echoed in her head. In love. In love.
She traced Isabella’s name in the cold stone focusing on the tactile sensation. “I know she did what she thought was best. But I can’t help wonder if she’d kept me, if she’d told her parents about me…how much different our lives would have been.”
“We’ll never know. Nothing good will come from spinning your wheels, trying to imagine.” His resigned tone made it clear he spoke from experience.
She lifted her gaze to him. “Your father?”
“I wanted him to come back in the worst way. Imagined every sort of scenario. Him walking through the front door. Him appearing at one of my soccer games. Him showing up at my high-school graduation.” He shook his head. “I learned that it’s better not to imagine and dream. Hurts less.”
Understanding flooded her. They shared a common bond. “When Cullen first died, I would sit for hours just staring at the walls wondering and imagining what the future would have been like if he hadn’t died.” The pain of those days scored her, as fresh now as then. Her mouth twisted as anger stirred. “But then I found out…”
His eyes sharpened. “You found out what?”
“His ‘friend.’” She made quote marks with her fingers. “The one he went skiing with—was a woman. They were having an affair.” Bitterness laced her words, clogged her throat.
Don winced. “How did you find out?”
“Someone let it slip at the funeral.” She gave a humorless laugh, remembering how the humiliation and betrayal had cut so deep she marveled she still had any blood left after such brutal wounds. “I was such a fool.”
“No!” Don wrapped his arms around her. “He was.”
She settled her head against his chest and took solace in his closeness, accepting his comfort for what it was, not what she wished it could be. “I actually confronted her.”
She hadn’t told anyone about this. Not even her parents. “She didn’t deny their relationship.” Her hands fisted. “I don’t understand how he could have done this to me. If he didn’t love me anymore, why not just break our engagement off instead of leading me on, thinking I would be spending the rest of my life with him?”
“You haven’t forgiven him,” he stated in a hushed tone.
She squeezed her eyes tight. “No. I can’t.”
Don tightened his arms around her. Anger that the jerk would hurt her sliced through him, leaving a burning wound. He kissed the top of her head. The fresh fragrance of apple shampoo teased his senses. She shifted slightly, making him aware of all her soft curves pressing close.
He wished he could make her hurt go away. Like he’d wished he could heal his mother’s wounds when his father walked out. But he couldn’t.
He could only make sure he never hurt anyone like that. Including the beautiful woman within his embrace. But he couldn’t bring himself to release her. Not yet.
The scuff of feet snapped him to attention. The sensation of being watched itched along his skin. Caution raced through his pulse. He scanned the cemetery and the tree line beyond. Nothing. He was getting sick of this cat-and-mouse game. This needed to end. But he couldn’t leave Caroline’s side.
“We should get back,” he stated, wary of how vulnerable they were out in the open. If another hired gunman were taking aim right now—
“Don, what is it?” The anxiety in her voice matched the alarm ricocheting through his system.
“I have a bad feeling.” He pulled his sidearm from his ankle holster. “Let’s go.”
Don kept a vigilant watch as they headed back through the trees. The forest took on an ominous feel. Shifting shadows grated on Don’s nerves. His muscles tensed. Every sense quivered with high alert.
Up ahead a shadow moved. Not just the shifting of leaves and branches. A man lurked beneath a massive angel oak tree.
“Hey! Don’t move,” Don yelled and fired a warning shot.
The guy dove for the cover of a blackberry bramble, then crashed through to the other side. He ran through the woods toward the road that ran west of their position.
Caroline pushed at Don, urging him to move. “Go! Get him!”
The need to act galvanized him. “Stay out of sight. I’ll be back.”
Determined to neutralize the threat once and for all, Don crashed through the underbrush after the man.
Heart pounding in her ears, Caroline crouched behind the thick trunk of the angel oak tree. Softly she prayed, “Please, Lord, let him catch this guy without having to shoot him.”
The memory of the last man Don had gone after surfaced. The blood. The sound of the slide of Don’s gun. The fierce look on his face. A warrior. A protector. The man she was rapidly falling for despite her best intentions not to. The world tilted as the realization reverberated around her head and her heart.
An out-of-place noise overtook the rush of blood in her head.
Dogs’ vicious barking. Getting closer. Louder. Angrier.
Two dark splotches crashed through the underbrush. Sharp teeth gleamed from snarling canine mouths.
She jumped up to reach a low-hanging branch. She struggled to hug the branch, the sleeve of her shirt catching. She felt a stinging pain on her arm as she swung her feet up, barely escaping the snapping jaws of two sleek Dobermans.
“Shh. Nice doggies,” she said, transfixed by the creatures.
Her breath lay trapped in her lungs and her muscles ached from holding on to the branch. For several long, agonizing minutes she hung in the air while the dogs barked, jumped, circled the tree and jumped some more. The animals seemed impervious to the rain that began to fall. Water dripped down Caroline’s back where her rain jacket gapped, but she couldn’t do anything about it except endure more discomfort.
“Felix! Oscar!”
Caroline had never been so happy to hear her uncle’s voice.
Samuel Maddox skidded to a halt, his eyes growing round as he gaze bounced between the dogs and Caroline.
“Fuss!” he commanded, the words sounding foreign and having no meaning to Caroline. “Platz.”
Immediately, the dogs dropped to their bellies. The barking ceased. The quiet was unnerving.
Caroline stared at her uncle. “What did you say to them?”
“The dogs are trained in German. Fuss means heel, Platz, down.”
The words sounded more like foos and plots, but whatever, they got the job done.
“I’m so sorry, my dear,” Samuel said, reaching up for her. “Let me help you down.”
She clung to the branch, not willing to trust the dogs. “They look like they want to eat me.”
He let out an exasperated breath. “They won’t hurt you unless they feel threatened.”
Her arms began to shake, her hold weakening. “I’m good here.”
“Nonsense. You could fall and hurt yourself.”
She readjusted her grip. The bark of the tree was becoming increasingly slippery. She wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. Did she dare trust her uncle? Don was convinced Samuel was the one behind the attempts on her life.
Her grip slipped. She let out a gasp as her feet lost their hold and swung away from the branch to dangle above the ground.
The dogs snarled.
“Nein!” Samuel snapped.
He placed his hands lightly around her waist and helped her safely to the ground. “There now.” He stepped back. “What are you doing out here?”
Keeping an alert eye on the dogs, she answered, “Don and I were visiting the cemetery.”
Understanding dawned. “Ah.” He looked around. “Where’s Don?”
“There was a man watching us. Don chased after him.”
Alarm flared in Samuel’s eyes. Real or pretend? “That’s not good.”
Not it wasn’t. She pointed to the animals at her uncle’s feet. “Where did they come from?”
He frowned. “I’d just returned from the hospital and noticed someone had opened the kennel. I heard the barking and came as quickly as I could.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why they came after you. They normally don’t attack people unless provoked.”
“I guess I’m special,” she muttered. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
“My dear,” Samuel said, leveling her with a grave look. “It might be better for you to leave before something bad happens to you.”
Tired of being scared, she planted her hands on her hips. “Something bad. Is that a threat? Are you the one trying to kill me?”
TEN
“Kill you?” Samuel’s eyes went wide with confusion. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”
Caroline arched an eyebrow and fought down the uneasiness that came from confronting a man who might very well want her dead. “Because with me out of the way you’d inherit everything.”
“No! I wouldn’t hurt you.” He shook his head grimly. “But I do worry for you. Did you know that members of our family tend to meet with tragic ends? I would hate for anything to happen to you.”
Unconvinced his advice to leave wasn’t meant in a more sinister way, she asked, “You mean Isabella’s death?”
He nodded. “Isabella. Great-grandfather, Uncle Gerome, my mother. Now my father.” He heaved a suffering sigh. “The Maddoxes are cursed with tragic ends.”
A shiver of unease tripped down her spine. “Your father isn’t dead yet, Samuel.”
He waved her off in a way that implied “soon enough.” “Don’t you think dying of disease is tragic?”
She grimaced. Yes, she did. Unfortunately, sickness was part of the human condition. “How did the others die?”
“Great-grandfather fell down a well. He was there three days before they discovered him. Uncle Gerome died in a plane crash in the Andes. My mother had a heart attack. I only wonder what tragic end God has in store for me.” He seemed resigned to his fate.
Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake by allowing compassion to temper her guard, she reached out to gently touch his arm. “Uncle Samuel, God doesn’t plan tragic deaths.” It hurt her heart to think he’d assign some sort of blame to God for the randomness of life. “None of us know how we’ll go or when. What matters is the life we live while we’re here.”
His eyes misted. He patted her hand. “Bless you, child. You remind me so much of Isabella. She would have thought the same. She had a deep faith in God. I know she struggled at times as we all do. But I know she’s in Heaven smiling down on us.”
Thinking of her mother in God’s embrace warmed Caroline’s heart and solidified her determination to get to the bottom of the threat to her and her grandfather’s lives. She prayed Samuel wasn’t the bad guy. But if not him, then who? And why? Was it tied to Isabella’s murder, and the man who killed her?
So many questions could drive a person to distraction.
There was a rustling sound nearby, and the dogs let out a vicious growl, startling Caroline back a step.
The dogs jumped to their feet and barked but didn’t leave Samuel’s side as two sets of footsteps drew closer.
“Nein!” Samuel commanded. The dogs stopped barking, but remained at attention, their beady black eyes on Don and his prize as they emerged through the trees.
Looking disheveled from his chase and decidedly angry, Don approached with a man held in a tight grip. Caroline gasped. She recognized Don’s captive’s angular features and shaggy blond hair. He didn’t look nearly as big and threatening as he had in Boston beneath a trench coat and fedora.
“What is going on?” Samuel questioned. “Willard, what were you doing out here on the back property spying on my niece and her fiancé?”
Don shoved the man forward. “You know this guy?”
“He’s a private detective. My father hired him to find Caroline.”
“That’s the man I saw loitering around my apartment building and shop in Boston,” Caroline explained.
“Willard, what do you have to say for yourself?” Samuel asked.
Giving Caroline a caustic glare, he said, “I came to the house to talk to Mr. Maddox, but then I saw these two sneaking off into the woods. I thought I should see what they were up to.”
“We weren’t sneaking off,” Caroline snapped.
“Why did you want to speak with Mr. Maddox?” Don asked.
“I haven’t been paid for finding the secret Maddox heiress. Mr. Paladin said I wouldn’t be paid until after January. But I need the money now.”
Don narrowed his gaze. “Did Paladin say why he wouldn’t pay until after the New Year?”
Willard jerked his shirtsleeves straight in a vain effort to restore order to his appearance. “He was being right stubborn about it. Said Mr. Maddox had stipulations that needed to be met before any money would be released. So I came to talk with Mr. Maddox myself. I didn’t agree to any stipulations.”
Caroline exchanged a glance with Don and saw her thoughts reflected in his eyes. The stipulation was she had to stay through New Year’s Day. But why would that affect payment of the P.I. who’d tracked her down?
“Come along, Willard, I’ll make sure you’re paid for services rendered,” Samuel said as he started walking toward the estate, the dogs at his heels.
Willard shot Don a wary glance before hustling after Samuel like one of his pets.
Don grasped Caroline’s wrist and held her arm up. “What happened?”
She glanced at her forearm. Blood soaked the cuff of her jacket sleeve. Surprise rocked through her. She pulled the material back to reveal deep scrapes on her forearm.
She made a face. “Felix and Oscar happened. Remember the dogs we heard barking?”
Don shot a glare at the retreating Dobermans and their master. “Samuel and I are going to have chat.” He turned back to her, self-recrimination clear in his expression. “I shouldn’t have left you.”
“You did the right thing. If you hadn’t caught Willard, we’d still think someone was gunning for me.”
“Someone still is. I’m sure Samuel hired yesterday’s shooter. He may have set the dogs after you hoping they’d do the job the bullets failed to do.”
An anxious flutter hit her stomach. “I confronted Samuel. Asked him point-blank if he was the one trying to hurt me.”
“What?” Don jabbed the air with his hand. “That was foolish. What if he’d done something?”
“But he didn’t. I just don�
��t buy that he’s behind it all.”
“For your sake, I hope you’re right. But whether Samuel was behind it or not, someone still sent that hit man after you. You’re still in danger. Please, don’t do anything like that again.”
“I won’t. I promise.” She frowned. “Samuel said that Felix and Oscar don’t attack unless provoked. So why would they come after me?”
“That’s a good question.” He took her by the arm. “Let’s inspect their kennel. Hopefully, we’ll find the answer.”
A mesh steel fence cordoned off the farthest edge of the property. Scattered hay soaked up the moisture from the rain and provided a hard-packed floor. In the center of the fenced area was a free-standing, very large doghouse. Felix and Oscar paced back and forth along the dog pen’s edge, barking frantically as Don and Caroline approached. Samuel exited through a high metal gate.
“Anything out of place?” Don asked.
“Other than the door being wide open when I arrived and the dogs gone, no, nothing.”
Don took each word with a grain of distrust. Of course he would claim nothing suspicious. “Where’s Willard?”
Samuel sighed. “I sent him on his way with a check.”
Don glanced at the growling dogs. “Who else will the dogs respond to?”
Samuel frowned. “You don’t think someone deliberately sent the dogs to attack Caroline do you?”
“Maybe.”
“A handful of people. Why would anyone do that?”
Don could think of a few million reasons. Greed did funny things to people.
Caroline moved closer to the fence, her gaze riveted on something. She pointed to a scrap of shredded material half buried beneath the hay. “That’s my shirt.”
Don stepped along side of her. “Now we know why the dogs came after you. Someone deliberately sent them into attack mode and gave them your scent.”
Samuel went back inside the pen and retrieved Caroline’s blouse, the one she’d worn the day they arrived.
