Juliana smothered a chuckle. “I’m afraid so.”
“Well, at least he’s a handsome devil. Listen, honey, here’s what I did. First, I started with an old-fashioned Victorian wicker basket. Then I added…”
Juliana’s heart stilled at the florist’s description.
It matched the basket of flowers Ross had specially requested for the room at the estate where Lexi had dressed for their wedding. Annette had been right. That was something a jealous, angry woman would do. A woman who’d lost her family’s company and wanted Ross to suffer personally, as well. Juliana just prayed that Sable Holden hadn’t been sick enough to kill Riana. “Please put my husband back on the phone.”
“Is everything all right?” Annette asked when Juliana returned to the living room a few minutes later.
“Oh, yes. But Hunter’s going to be delayed.”
“TY, YOU IN HERE?”
Del checked the cottage, wondering if Ty was heating himself up a TV dinner or was in the latrine. Del hadn’t seen him in over an hour and his cell phone appeared to be out of service. Ty had probably accidentally turned it off.
Del didn’t like it.
He’d trace the perimeter of the island one more time in case he’d somehow missed Ty, then check up at the house. Maybe Ty had bummed dinner off Lars.
Dusk was falling, enveloping the woods in shadows as he patrolled the back side of the island. A slight sound warned him a split second before something struck him from out of nowhere. Excruciating pain ricocheted through his left shoulder, making him stumble. Instinctively, he reached for his gun with his right hand to defend himself. But before he could draw his weapon, he was tackled. Del rolled with his assailant, going for his jugular with his right hand. His left arm was completely useless.
His assailant was strong. Skilled. Del saw the glint of the blade, managed to kick it from the man’s hand. A booted foot hit him in the ribs, cracking bones. Del grabbed the foot and twisted, pulling the bastard to the ground. Trying to break his ankle.
Too late, Del saw the blade flash again. But this time he was helpless to stop it.
AT HALF PAST SEVEN, Cort rubbed his tired eyes and let it be known that he’d had enough for one day.
Juliana rocked him in her arms. “I’m sorry, Annette. It’s his bedtime. Would you like to help me bathe him and get him settled? We could talk or watch a movie afterward.”
Annette uncurled herself from her niche in the sofa and stifled a yawn. “Actually I wouldn’t mind a long bath and a good night’s sleep myself. I haven’t slept much in the last week. And now that I’ve seen the baby, I think I’ll be able to.”
Juliana gave her a one-armed hug. “Good night, then. If you feel up to company in the morning, call me. Cort’s usually up before seven.”
“All right, I will.”
She and Cort walked with Annette to the door.
A haunting sadness filled Lexi’s sister’s eyes as she touched the baby’s head. “Do you think Lexi regretted marrying Ross? She thought it would bring her happiness, but mostly it brought her pain.”
“I can’t speak for her. But I do know that the love they had for each other lives on in their children.”
“I’ll hold on to that thought.” With a wave, Annette descended the granite steps and disappeared into the night.
Juliana went upstairs to bathe Cort, dwelling on what Annette had said. Had that been Sable’s plan—to make Ross and Lexi regret their marriage?
ONCE THE STATE POLICE fingerprint expert had taken the florist’s fingerprints and removed several latent fingerprints from the photograph, he promised to contact them as soon as he had any results. In the meantime, Hunter and Investigator Bradshaw headed to Long Island with the photograph in an evidence bag. Hunter wanted to look through the photo album of Ross and Lexi’s wedding.
Stacey Kerr brought them the album and left them to work in private in Ross’s study. The photos the photographer had taken of the bride getting dressed were near the beginning of the album.
Investigator Bradshaw tapped a photo of Lexi and her mother beside a wicker basket of flowers. “There’s the basket. This is the same photo.” He laid the cut-out basket on top of the photo.
It was a perfect fit.
“Look at the truth it tells,” Bradshaw said softly.
Hunter swore as he studied the photo of Lexi and her mother. Mrs. York wore an expression of pride and joy as she adjusted her radiant daughter’s tiara. Lexi looked like a princess. The love between mother and daughter was like a glass shell, enclosing them, excluding others. Annette was not included in the picture. Hunter had a stomach-clenching feeling there was some symbolism in her absence.
He thought of Juliana and her conviction that her father loved her brother best. Was that how Annette had felt about her sister? That Lexi was the favored child? Hunter checked the other pictures in the album. He found one of Annette and Lexi. But Annette’s smile was forced as if she wished she were anywhere else but at her sister’s wedding.
Hunter vaguely remembered Juliana repeating a comment Annette had made the day of the funeral about postponing her wedding to Darren Black because of Lexi’s pregnancy. It hadn’t registered then, but it registered now.
Sable Holden hadn’t killed Ross and Lexi out of revenge. Annette had. And she’d been misdirecting the investigation by casting suspicion on everyone but herself.
Hunter reached for his cell phone, fear dwelling in his heart. Annette was on FairIsle. He had to warn Lars and Juliana.
“WHAT’S KEEPING LARS with your bottle?” Juliana asked Cort, smoothing his furrowed brow with her fingers. “I know you’re tired, my grumpy pumpkin. Here, I’ll put you down in your crib with your blankie and be back in a few minutes with your bottle.”
Cort started to fuss the moment she laid him down. “It’s all right,” she murmured to soothe his cries. “I’ll be right back. Lars probably got tied up with something.”
Juliana went out into the hallway and leaned over the banister, looking for the butler. “Lars?”
There was no answer from downstairs. The house was silent. Had he gone outside for a minute? Or taken a phone call?
She hurried down to the kitchen. Cort was so tired. If she didn’t get his bottle right away, he’d probably fall asleep then wake up in a few hours hungry as a bear.
Lars wasn’t in the kitchen. The overhead lights had been turned off, but the under-cabinet lights glowed softly on the granite countertops. Juliana grabbed a bottle from the refrigerator and popped it in the microwave to warm.
As she stepped back from the microwave, she slipped on a sticky substance on the floor. They must have spilled some red wine earlier. She crossed to the sink to grab a dish cloth, leaving a tacky trail. She swiped at the sole of her shoe, startled to see the stain was a vibrant red. Like blood.
Had Lars broken a wineglass and cut himself?
Juliana switched on the overhead lights. The blood was more visible now on the black-and-white tiled floor. Alarm creeping through her, she followed the trail to the door of the butler’s pantry and pushed the door open.
A scream rose in her throat.
Lars lay on the floor unconscious and bleeding. He’d been stabbed several times.
“OH, GOD. LARS?”
Juliana felt in his pockets for his cell phone, panic spiraling through her. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. Lars needed a hospital. Now.
His cell phone wasn’t there. Nor was his gun.
But the butler was still alive; she could hear him breathing. She grabbed an apron hanging from a knob and bunched it over the wounds in his abdomen, laying Lars’s hands over the cloth. She had to alert Del and Ty there was a dangerous intruder on the island.
The microwave pinged. Juliana nearly jumped out of her skin in fright. She needed to do something. Cort was upstairs alone. She had to find a phone. Get help.
A bead of perspiration rolled down her spine as she grabbed a marble rolling pin off the pastry
board. Taking a steadying breath, she stepped back into the kitchen and made a wild dash for the portable phone sitting in its base at the message center.
She hit the talk button, then hit the button for the Chelsea cottage. Oh, damn. There was no dial tone!
A receiver must be off the hook in the house somewhere.
Juliana felt panic seizing her. What should she do? Go find the other security guards?
No! She had to get upstairs to Cort. Her baby could be in danger. Her gun, the replacement cell phone Hunter had given her and the safe room were up there, too. She could call for help for Lars from the safe room.
Not knowing whether Lars’s attacker was still in the house, she moved cautiously through the house, avoiding the servant’s staircase off the kitchen and the main staircase. She’d take the back staircase at the far end of the house that brought her near the nursery and Brook’s suite.
Her heart beat with a deafening roar in her ears as she crept up the stairs. Please God, keep Cort safe.
She entered Hunter’s room first, locking the door behind her and nearly succumbing to tears at the strong sense of his presence in the room. Give me strength, Hunter. Give me strength, she prayed.
She could hear Cort snuffling in his crib and her heart leaped. Almost there.
She eased the door open, entering the corridor that connected her suite to Hunter’s. The door to her room was ajar—the way she’d left it. Her heart pounding wildly, Juliana crossed the corridor and locked her door. Then she peered into her dressing room, looking for places someone could hide. Satisfied that no one was hiding in wait, she grabbed her purse from the shelf and pulled out her gun.
Feeling safer, she lifted Cort from his crib and swaddled his blanket snugly around him. To her relief, he burrowed his head into the curve of her neck and sighed.
There was no sign of her cell phone. Where had she left it? In her room?
Somewhere in the house Juliana heard a door slam. The kitchen door, she thought. Oh, God!
She had to get Cort upstairs to Hunter’s office. Now.
Gun raised, she unlocked the door to Hunter’s room and crossed the hallway to the main staircase. It was the most direct route to Hunter’s office.
One flight up to safety, and a chance to save Lars.
Hugging the wall of the staircase, she moved up the stairs, praying Cort wouldn’t make a noise and give away their location.
Five more steps. There! Her fingers shook as she punched in the code to Hunter’s office: Wife. What a wonderful word! Thank God for a husband with backup plans. She pushed the heavy door open. Not a moment too soon.
Shots splintered the railing behind her and dug into the paneling to the left of the door. She darted into Hunter’s office, closing the door behind her. Then headed straight for the bookshelf and the hidden button.
She could hear more shots being fired out in the hallway. She had no idea how long the door to his office might hold back an intruder. She wasn’t taking any chances. Maybe there was a cell phone in the safe room.
She hit the button, and the bookcase and the panel behind it granted her access to the safe room. Relief poured through her as the entrance sealed automatically, securing them inside.
Juliana laid Cort on the carpet and searched the locker. There was no cell phone. But she found more guns.
She took one for backup, blessing Hunter for his cautious nature. Oh God, she wished he were here now! She was so scared.
She emptied the locker so she could use it as a crib for Cort. She couldn’t take him with her. It was much too dangerous. He’d be safer here in Hunter’s secret room. Her heart in her throat, she gave Cort a goodbye kiss and laid him in the locker. “I love you, baby. I’m counting on you to bring your sunshine into Hunter’s life.”
Choking back tears, she hit the keypad for the emergency exit. She couldn’t leave Annette and Lars to certain death. She had to find a phone that worked.
AVOIDING THE PATH, Juliana moved along the shore of the island toward Windermere, terrified that one false step in the dark would send her falling into the river. The night was cold, the stars distant and blurred. But she couldn’t think of failure. She had to think about saving Annette and Lars.
Somehow Sable had found out where The Guardian lived.
Juliana tripped over a rock and fell, scraping her hands on some stones. She didn’t have time to feel any pain. Not when Lars could be dying. May already be dead. She glimpsed Windermere through the trees. Saw lights on. Saw a shadow move in front of the window and glimpsed the gold sweater Annette had worn to the house earlier.
Thank God she was unharmed.
Juliana crept up to the door of the cottage and entered without knocking.
Annette whirled around, dropping a cushion she had clutched to her stomach. “Juliana! What’s wrong? What are you doing here?” she asked in alarm.
Juliana locked the door. “Quick! Try the phone. We need to call the state police. Lars has been stabbed. He’s dying.”
Annette reached for the phone and lifted the receiver. Juliana cried out with relief at the sound of the dial tone. She snatched the phone from the smaller woman’s hand. Setting her gun on the sofa table, she dialed for help.
“This is Juliana Sinclair,” she told the emergency dispatcher. “I’m on FairIsle. There’s an intruder in the house. He stabbed the butler and hid his body in the pantry. I’m in the guest cottage with Annette York. There are two security guards on the island, but I can’t reach them. We need help now!”
The dispatcher told her to remain calm, the police were on the way. Juliana disconnected the call and pressed the button to reach Chelsea cottage.
The phone rang and rang.
“Damn!” She hung up in frustration. “Come on, we’re getting out of here. We’re sitting ducks.” She turned and reached for the gun. It wasn’t there.
Annette had it. Her face was white and her hand was trembling. “I’m not leaving until you tell me where Cort is.”
“He’s safe, Annette. I hid him.”
“Tell me where.”
Juliana thought about drawing the gun she’d tucked in the back waistband of her jeans. But she didn’t want to risk either of them getting hurt. Annette was scared. She might pull the trigger. “Put down the gun. We don’t have time for this. The killer could be headed for your cottage right now. I know a secret cave where we can hide. Hunter showed it to me.”
Annette motioned with the gun. “Let’s go, then. Out the back door.”
Chapter Fifteen
Hunter was frantic.
He and Investigator Bradshaw had been trying the phone lines to FairIsle in vain as they flew back to the island in Hunter’s helicopter. The main phone line to the house was busy. The cell phones belonging to the security team were not currently in service. There was no answer in Chelsea cottage. And Juliana’s cell phone rang incessantly.
Investigator Bradshaw had called the state police to the island. Would they be too late?
Guilt and despair racked him at the thought of Juliana being ripped from his life. He saw her beautiful face as she’d dropped the towel from her body so he wouldn’t forget where he’d left off.
As if he could.
Selfishly, foolishly, because he’d been too cowardly to make himself vulnerable to her, he hadn’t told her he loved her.
He was an idiot. Not saying the words didn’t negate the feelings. Didn’t mean they weren’t there, buried in him. Making him ache.
She could be hurt. She could be dying.
The most courageous woman in the world had told him she loved him today. Twice. And he’d failed her.
“How much longer?” he shouted at the pilot, searching the dark landscape below for familiar landmarks.
“Forty-two minutes.”
Investigator Bradshaw touched his arm. “The troopers will be there any minute.”
Hunter nodded grimly, tortured by the fear they would be too late. Just as he’d been too late to save his mother
.
JULIANA KNEW SOMETHING was horribly wrong when she heard Annette’s voice. “I’ve got her. We’re on the path heading toward the garden. Meet us at the fountain.”
She stopped and whirled around. Annette had a cell phone in her hand. The last thing Annette had said before she’d left the house this evening took on a new and horrifying significance in Juliana’s mind. Had Annette wanted to make Lexi regret her marriage to Ross? To what lengths had she gone to bring pain and unhappiness to her sister’s life? “You did this? How could you kill your sister?”
“How could I?” Annette gave a short bitter laugh. “Do you know what it was like being Lexi’s younger sister? Lexi, who won beauty competitions. Who only had to walk into a room and people adored her. I was invisible! Nothing I did ever mattered. I got straight A’s in high school. Was valedictorian of my class. When I got a scholarship my mother told me it was just as well because they couldn’t possibly afford to put us both through college.
“I was engaged first. Did you know that? My one shining moment that eclipsed Lexi. Darren was a mathematician. An academic. He was going to be brilliant—and he loved me. For twenty-four whole days I had Mother’s attention. She called me almost every day to talk about the wedding. And we even met for lunch. Lunch! That was something she normally only had time to do with Lexi. We were planning my wedding. My future, my happiness. And it was going to be beautiful.”
Juliana tried to edge away from Annette and the gun in the dark. She could dart into the woods behind a tree and be in a position to defend herself.
“Is Darren helping you? Did he make the bomb?”
“No! You’re so stupid. You underestimate me—just like Lexi. She told me they were going to see Cort and gave me the address. I made the bomb with castor beans—simple research on the Internet. Darren had nothing to do with it. I simply couldn’t marry him, not after Lexi came home with the baron of Wall Street and announced she was pregnant and they were getting married.
“Pregnant.” Annette spat out the word. “If I’d come home pregnant my parents would have disowned me. But not their beautiful, perfect Lexi who’d never so much as had a pimple her entire life. She’d nabbed a goddamn billionaire! Mother told me that we’d have to postpone my wedding because she couldn’t possibly be expected to plan two weddings at once. Lexi’s wedding had to come first because of the baby.”
The Butler's Daughter Page 21
