Garden of Secrets

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Garden of Secrets Page 2

by Barbara Freethy


  She turned and fled. The grand staircase was the only open path, so she ran up the stairs, ignoring the surprised look of a passing maid. She could find refuge in some bathroom, she hoped.

  “Ten, nine, eight . . .” The chant from the crowd grew louder.

  She turned one corner, then another. The huge house was perfect for hiding out. She moved farther down the hall, stopping abruptly as the lights went out.

  Surprised cries and nervous screams echoed through the house, along with shouts of “Happy New Year.” What the hell happened?

  Someone brushed against her shoulder, knocking her slightly off balance, then the shadowy figure was gone. How could they move so quickly through the darkness?

  Turning around, she put her hand on the wall to find her way back to the staircase. A chorus of “Auld Lang Syne” rang out from below. The blackout hadn’t dimmed the party’s champagne-fueled spirits. She followed the noise, glad when small flickering lights appeared. Someone had lit some candles. She reached the staircase with relief, her hand hitting the banister as the lights came back on. She blinked, then moved quickly down the stairs.

  She had just reached the bottom step when she heard shrill screams from above. It took a moment for them to register over the party chatter, but as the screams continued, the crowd hushed.

  Then the housekeeper appeared at the top of the staircase. “Mrs. Monroe!” she cried. “I think she’s dead!”

  Joe Silveira pushed through the shocked hush of the crowded hallway. He’d had a bad feeling when the lights went out, and now he knew why. Charlotte gave him a shocked look as he passed her, and she started to follow, but he waved her back. He needed to find out what was going on first. One of his officers, Colin Lynch, jogged up the stairs behind him.

  When they reached the landing, the housekeeper burst into an agitated mix of Spanish and English as she led them down the hallway and waved them toward an open door.

  The master bedroom was a picture of luxury: thick carpet, a huge king-size bed with an ornately carved frame, and a sitting area with a fireplace and a big-screen television. He registered the details with efficiency. The room was too messy for a party night; the drawers in the dresser were half open, and there was a scent of perfume in the air. As he moved further inside, his pulse jumped at the sight of the beautiful, skinny blonde sprawled on the floor between the bedroom and the bathroom.

  Theresa Monroe was on her back, her skin pale against her bright red cocktail dress. Her short blond hair was streaked with blood, a pool appearing under the back of her head, which rested on the marble floor.

  He squatted down next to her and put a hand to her neck. Her pulse was faint but present, and he could hear the whisper of her breath.

  “She’s alive,” he told Colin, who was already calling for an ambulance.

  “I’ll get Charlotte.” Colin jogged out of the room.

  Joe grabbed two thick towels off the rack and covered Theresa. The mayor rushed into the room a moment later. He was a tall, balding man with a bit of gut stretching the buttons on his white silk shirt. His eyes widened in shock when he saw his wife. His mouth opened, but no words came. It was the first time Joe had ever seen him speechless.

  “Oh, my God,” Monroe finally got out, dropping to his knees.

  “She’s breathing,” Joe quickly reassured him. “Paramedics are on the way. Colin went downstairs to find a doctor.”

  Robert touched his wife’s bare shoulder. “She’s so cold.” His gaze moved to the pool of blood, and he drew in a shaky breath. “What—what happened?”

  “I don’t know yet. Your housekeeper found her like this a few minutes ago.”

  “I was just outside checking the lights. Do you think she slipped in the dark?”

  “It’s possible,” he replied, his mind racing through a few other scenarios. He glanced down at Theresa, noting the red scratch marks on her neck. “Was your wife wearing a necklace?”

  Robert’s jaw dropped. “Yes. Oh, my God! It was a diamond necklace dating back to the shipwreck. It’s quite valuable.” His gaze dropped to his wife’s hand. “Her wedding ring is gone, too.” He stared at Joe in confusion and disbelief. “Someone robbed her, right here in our home, in the middle of a party. Who would do that?”

  Just then, Colin returned with Charlotte and Ray Bennington, an ER doctor at the clinic. Joe stood up and moved out of the doorway, allowing the doctors a closer look.

  “Jason just arrived,” Colin informed him. “Davidson is on his way to handle forensics.”

  “Good. Because it looks like Mrs. Monroe’s diamonds are missing—at least, the ones she was wearing.”

  “Damn. The blackout was planned?”

  “I’ve never believed in coincidences. Get Sheila over here, too. We’re going to need her to search the female guests while Davidson takes prints.”

  “I’m on it.” Colin passed the paramedics on his way out of the room.

  Charlotte stepped out of the bathroom as the paramedics joined Dr. Bennington. Her blue eyes were worried as her gaze met Joe’s. “She’s in bad shape.”

  “At least she’s still alive.”

  Charlotte nodded, but there was doubt written all over her pretty face. He’d come to the party for one reason—to see her, and maybe use midnight as as an opportunity to kiss her. He’d been thinking about her for weeks, missing her warm smile, her light blue eyes, her silky golden-blond hair and sun-kissed skin. In a short black dress that showed off her slender legs and sexy body, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. He just wished their reunion wasn’t in the middle of a crime scene.

  “This is crazy,” she muttered. “What do you think happened?”

  “Too soon to tell.”

  “Who would rob her in the middle of a party? It’s so bold.”

  “And personal,” he said, thinking about what kind of thief he was dealing with.

  “Like a friend?”

  “Obviously not a very good one.” He tilted his head to the side, giving her a thoughtful look. “Did you see anything? I saw you come down the stairs just before the housekeeper screamed.”

  “No, I didn’t see a thing,” she said, stumbling a bit. “The lights went off, and it was pitch black.”

  “Did you hear a scream? An argument? Anyone call for help?”

  “I heard a lot of screams when everything went dark. But nothing that sounded like someone was in trouble.”

  “What were you doing up here, Charlotte?”

  “Looking for a bathroom,” she said, not quite meeting his gaze.

  He didn’t know what to make of her evasiveness. Charlotte wouldn’t hurt anyone. She was a kind, generous person who went out of her way to help people, but there was something she wasn’t telling him.

  Before he could probe further, he saw the housekeeper hovering in the doorway.

  “Mrs. Monroe is still alive?” she asked, taking a few tentative steps into the room. She wore a black dress with dark stockings and flat shoes. Her black hair was streaked with gray and pulled back in a tight bun, no evidence of makeup on her rather plain face.

  “Yes,” he said. “They’re going to take her to the hospital.”

  “Thank God.” She made the sign of the cross on her chest. “I was worried. She was so still. And there was so much blood.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Constance Garcia,” she said a bit warily.

  “You found her, Constance?” the mayor interrupted, stepping into the bedroom as the paramedics put Theresa on a stretcher.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Did you see anyone else near this room?” Joe asked. “In the hallway or on the stairs?”

  The maid hesitated for a moment, her gaze darting from him to the mayor and then to Charlotte. She lifted her hand, pointing right at Charlotte. “I saw her.”

  “Charlotte?” Robert asked in surprise. “What were you doing up here?”

  Charlotte stiffened, obviously hearing the accusation in the
mayor’s voice. “I was looking for a bathroom. I was in the hall when the lights went out. I didn’t see Theresa.”

  “Are you sure? You never liked her,” Robert said, suspicion edging his voice.

  “That’s not true,” Charlotte said, paling under his harsh words.

  “Theresa didn’t want to invite you, but she felt she had to because her grandmother and your mother are friends. She said you’d been horrible to her sister. That you’d always been jealous of them.” His voice rose as he took a step forward.

  Joe moved quickly between them. “You need to go to the hospital with your wife. Let us take care of the investigation.”

  Robert hesitated, then said through tight lips, “You find out who did this, Silveira. I want to know who almost killed Theresa.”

  “I will.”

  Charlotte let out a breath as the room cleared. Her eyes were worried. “Joe, you don’t think I had anything to do with this, do you? I’m not a thief, and I would never attack someone.”

  “Is there bad blood between you and Theresa?” he asked curiously. He had never heard of anyone not liking Charlotte.

  “Her sister, Pamela, and I didn’t get along in high school, but that was a dozen years ago. Theresa and I aren’t best friends, but we’re civil to each other. She did invite me to the party. I think she wanted to show off her house and her diamonds, but that’s just who she is. I doubt half the people here are really her friends.”

  He knew Theresa well enough to agree with Charlotte’s assessment. While he’d managed to maintain a good working relationship with the mayor, he was very aware that while the Monroes thought they ran the place, there were many people who thought they should be run out of town. Unfortunately, the only person in the vicinity of the attack, according to the maid’s recollection, was Charlotte.

  “Why did you lie about your reason for coming upstairs?” he asked.

  She bristled at his words. “I didn’t lie.”

  “You’re hiding something. What is it?”

  She gave him an irritated look. “Fine. I wanted to leave the house before midnight, but there were too many people between me and the front door when the countdown started. So I came up the stairs, thinking I’d find a bathroom and wait for a few minutes and then go.”

  “It’s a New Year’s Eve party. Why would you leave before midnight?”

  Her cheeks grew warmer. “I had my reasons.”

  “I need a better answer.”

  “That’s all I have.”

  He gave her a long look. “Who were you running away from, Charlotte?”

  She stared back at him. “Do you really want to know?”

  TWO

  Joe’s gut clenched. Did he want to know? He’d been walking a fine line with her for a long time.

  On his way to the party, he’d been thinking about changing that. Soon he would be officially divorced, single for the first time in more than ten years. It was both terrifying and exhilarating to know that he couldn’t possibly predict what would happen next.

  Charlotte cleared her throat. “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.” She glanced around the room. “It looks like someone searched the room. Do you think the thief took more than what Theresa was wearing?”

  “Quite possibly,” he said shortly. This wasn’t the time to think about his personal life. “Why don’t we go into the hall?” He led her into the corridor, careful not to touch anything. He needed to preserve the crime scene.

  “What happens now?” she asked.

  “We’ll take names, statements, fingerprints, and search the guests before they leave. Everyone who was here at the time the lights went off is a suspect.”

  “Even you?”

  “Even me.”

  “Well, I’m glad to know I’m not alone.” An odd look flashed through her eyes. “Someone passed me in the hall after the lights went out. They brushed against my arm.”

  His pulse quickened. “Man or woman?”

  “I’m not sure. The only thought I had at the time was that they seemed to be moving awfully fast in the dark, as if they knew where they were going. I wonder if Theresa saw who hit her.”

  “That would be helpful. Tell me more about your problems with Theresa.”

  She sighed. “My grievance was only with her younger sister. And it’s ancient history.”

  “What happened?”

  Frowning, she asked, “Do we really have to get into it, Joe?”

  “Since the mayor has brought it up, yes. I need to know what he knows.”

  “Andrew cheated on me with Pamela in our senior year of high school. In return, I called her few names, which she deserved.”

  “You blamed her, not Andrew?” He never understood why scorned women always seemed to give their boyfriends the benefit of the doubt while laying the blame on the other woman.

  A spark of anger lit up Charlotte’s eyes. “Of course I blamed Andrew. He betrayed me, broke my trust, and hurt me more than I had thought possible. But Pamela threw their relationship in my face every chance she got. And stealing Andrew wasn’t her first offense; she went after a lot of boyfriends. I wasn’t the only one who disliked her.”

  “No, but you were the only one in this hallway tonight.”

  “But Pamela wasn’t attacked. I have no reason to assault Theresa. And where on earth would I even hide a diamond necklace in this dress?”

  The form-fitting dress hugged her body like a second skin, which he very much appreciated. Charlotte had full breasts and sweet hips, curves just made for a man’s hands.

  “Okay, stop undressing me,” she ordered, a slight flush reddening her cheeks.

  He couldn’t help smiling. “You look beautiful tonight, Charlotte.”

  Her tension eased slightly. “Thank you. So what now?”

  “I’ll wait here until my officers can seal the room and run forensics.”

  “The new year isn’t off to a very good start, is it?”

  “I certainly wasn’t anticipating this on my first day back in town.”

  “How’s your father doing?”

  “Much better now. I didn’t want to leave L.A. until I felt confident he was out of the woods. He still has some rehab ahead of him, but he’s a fighter. He won’t give up.”

  “I’m glad. You’re close to him, aren’t you?”

  “We haven’t spent much time together in the past few years, but he was a good father to me. Tough, fair, a big believer in doing things the right way. He taught me a lot.”

  “Now I know who you take after.”

  He smiled. “I try.”

  “Did Isabella come back with you?”

  “He nodded. “My sister is officially staying at my house, but I doubt I’ll see much of her. She and Nick Hartley are spending a lot of time together these days. He came down to L.A. with his daughter over the holidays so he could meet the family.”

  “Sounds like they’re getting serious.”

  “It looks that way.”

  He needed to send Charlotte downstairs. He needed to go back into the bedroom and look around. He needed to do a half-dozen other things besides talk to her. None of them involved moving closer to Charlotte—but that’s exactly what he did, because it was New Year’s Eve and after midnight, and they were alone.

  She backed up a step, giving him a wary look. “What are you doing?”

  “I came here tonight for one reason.” His gaze moved to her soft, pretty pink lips. “A New Year’s Eve kiss.”

  “It’s past midnight now.”

  He looked into her beautiful blue eyes. “Were you running away from me, Charlotte?” He was so close he could see her pulse jump, smell the musky scent of her perfume. So close he could almost taste her.

  But almost wasn’t good enough. He put his mouth on hers and took what he’d been wanting for so long.

  It was even better than he’d imagined. Her lips opened under his, and he explored her warm mouth with rapidly building desire.

  When her hands went ar
ound his neck, pulling him closer, he pressed against her until there wasn’t an inch of space between them. Her breasts met his chest, her hips cradled his pelvis as their legs tangled together. What had started out as a simple New Year’s Eve kiss had become a full-out assault on the senses.

  But it was the wrong place. The wrong time. He could hear voices growing closer.

  “Damn,” he muttered, forcing himself to break away.

  She looked at him with dazed eyes, as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t believe it, either. He’d completely lost his head, and that hadn’t happened in a very, very long time.

  He stepped back, pushing his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach for her again. Charlotte pulled down her dress, which had ridden up her gorgeous thighs, and her breasts moved with each quick breath. How he wished he’d had a chance a touch them, to run his thumbs over her nipples, to hear her gasp with pleasure the way she had when he’d slipped his tongue into her mouth.

  “Chief,” Jason Marlow called out as he turned the corner.

  He drew a deep breath and pulled himself together.

  Marlow had been promoted to detective just before Christmas, and he was about to get his first big case.

  “Colin filled me in,” Jason said as he joined them in the corridor. He gave Charlotte a worried look. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “I’m fine, Jason,” she said quickly. “Joe and I were just talking about who could have done this.”

  “Well, I need you to do me a favor. Your mother is refusing to be searched, fingerprinted, or interviewed. She’s starting a mutiny with the other guests. Maybe you could calm her down.”

  “I rarely have a calming effect on my mother, but I’ll give it a shot.”

  “Don’t follow your mother’s lead, Charlotte,” Joe advised as she moved past him. “Don’t look like you have anything to hide.”

  That brought her head around. “I don’t have anything to hide. You should know that better than anyone.”

  He smiled at her pointed words, then quickly neutralized his expression as Jason gave him a speculative glance. Rumors spread fast in Angel’s Bay, and the last thing he needed was to put his tenuous relationship with Charlotte under a microscope.

 

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