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Waltz into Fire (The Sentinals Book 1)

Page 8

by L. J. Garland


  “Nothing.” She looked up at him. If the memory still bothered her after the will reading, she’d share it then. “Probably just the sun on the water.”

  Erik narrowed his eyes, his gaze scrutinizing her. “Fallon….”

  She stepped past him and tapped her watch as she’d seen the captain do. “We mustn’t be late.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Okay, Alice. We’re coming.”

  The hairs on Fallon’s neck prickled. He’d understood the reference as well. She cut her gaze toward Erik to see if he’d noticed.

  He nodded, his voice ringing in her mind. Yes, curiouser and curiouser.

  They followed the dappled path for another five minutes, and then the trees opened onto a wide clearing. Stumbling to a stop next to her twin, Fallon stared, her breath lodging in her throat. Amber reached over to lace her fingers with Fallon’s. Before them loomed their Aunt Serida’s home.

  Amber gasped. “I don’t—”

  “Believe it,” Fallon finished.

  Chapter Nine

  Fallon stared in bewilderment, shock coursing through her in sharp pulses. Never had she expected—

  Amber trembled next to her, and Fallon squeezed her hand in reassurance.

  “Wow,” Erik said from behind them. “The grounds need some maintenance—”

  “—but it’s not at all what I thought it’d be,” Wyatt said, his Maine dialect separating his comment from Erik’s.

  “It’s not a house at all,” Amber said.

  “No,” Fallon agreed. “It’s a freakin’ mansion.”

  “Ah-yuh,” Wyatt said.

  Fallon stared at the brick monstrosity with its towering gables and resolute spires. Thick concrete sills lined the windows and curved over flowing arches. Heavy slate tiles topped the structure, and wrought iron railing lined the roof peaks. At the highest point, a weather vane angled northeast against the gray sky.

  A large glass structure drew Fallon’s gaze. “Is that a…?”

  “A conservatory?” Erik snorted and moved next to her. “Yeah. Looks like a few panes are broken though.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, noting the odd expression on Wyatt’s face. “Are you all right?”

  He jolted, seeming all of a sudden to realize she was standing there. “Fine. I had no idea. I guess when Billy disappeared, I just imagined….” His gaze roved over the mansion, a glimmer of pain flickering in his eyes. “Well, not this.”

  “I don’t think any of us expected anything so…grand,” Fallon said.

  Amber tilted her head. “Or gorgeous.”

  A memory sparked in Fallon’s mind. Hadn’t the waitress at the restaurant yesterday said she’d lost her fiancé somewhere nearby? She turned back to Wyatt. “Wait a minute. Billy? As in Billy Lowell?”

  “Ah-yuh.” Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Because—”

  “Someone’s coming,” Amber said.

  A lanky man dressed in a crisp black suit with a bright-blue ascot scurried across the lawn in their direction. “Ah, you’re here. Perfect.” He gestured toward the house with a flourish. “If you will come with me, we’ll proceed with the will reading for the dearly departed Ms. Garrison.”

  Erik stepped toward the elderly man. “And you are?”

  “Oh, yes.” His gaze flicked over each of them in turn before coming back to Erik. “Theodore Maddox Hatfield, Esquire, and attorney for the Forrester Estate at your service. I’m sure all your questions will be answered in due time.” He indicated the mansion again. “So, if you please.”

  Wyatt raised a brow and shrugged. “It’s why we’re all here. Lead on, sir.”

  Fallon followed after Amber across the vast lawn and ascended the wide, curving slate staircase leading onto an immense terrace. Up close, the mansion appeared even larger, but, thankfully, the structure didn’t seem to radiate malevolence. In fact, Fallon realized her trepidation had subsided, replaced with wonder and intrigue.

  “Yeah,” Erik mumbled behind her. “Trim the hedges and trees, fix up the conservatory, plant a few flowers, and this place would be—”

  “Down right charming,” she finished with a smile.

  He grinned, trailing her up the steps and into the house. “Just what I was going to say.”

  Hatfield led them to the library. Never had Fallon seen so many books in one place other than in the local library in Rainsville. Shelf upon shelf of literature, textbooks, fiction, and reference books lined the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows graced the room with natural light, but with the overcast day, Fallon was thankful for the lamps and track lighting.

  “I shall return momentarily,” Hatfield said. “Please, help yourselves to the refreshments.”

  When he’d gone, Amber turned to her with wide eyes. “Will you look at this place? I mean, I thought it’d be all dark wood and old, musty furniture. You know, wingback chairs and drapes so heavy a cat could climb them straight to the ceiling. Not this.” She shuffled deeper into the room. “I mean everything’s modern. Up-to-date. Normal chairs, glass tables, bright colors. That book ladder is chrome. And look, there’s even a laptop on the desk.”

  Wyatt dropped down onto the supple blue sofa. “Seems our auntie kept up with the times.” He leaned forward, perusing the display of refreshments. “Coffee, herbal teas, cookies, cheese and crackers, and”—he laughed—“looks like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crusts cut off.” Snatching up a triangle, he took a bite and rolled his eyes. “I’m liking Aunt Serida more and more.”

  Fallon poured herself and Erik some coffee while Amber dipped a packet of herbal tea into a cup of steaming water. She’d just set the carafe back onto the table when Hatfield returned.

  “Shall we begin?” he said and scurried behind the desk.

  “Please.” Fallon took her seat. “We are all anxious to know why we were called here…besides the obvious.”

  “Well, then, let’s get down to it. As you know, we are here today to read the last will and testament of Serida Ann Garrison. It’s fairly brief and to the point, then there will be specific letters for each of you to open when you are home. So, first, I’ll read what she has down then hand out the letters.”

  “Fine,” Wyatt agreed, his deep timbre resonating.

  “I, Serida Ann Garrison, being of sound mind and body, do hereby leave all my worldly possessions to my only living relatives, Fallon Anderson, Amber Starling, Erik Greyson, and Wyatt Boudreaux, my nieces and nephews, sons and daughters of my sister, Sarra Marie Forrester.”

  Fallon tensed at the unexpected disclosure, but before she could speak, Amber gasped.

  “Siblings?”

  “Yes, Ms. Starling. The four of you are not just siblings, you’re quadruplets.”

  “Why the hell are we just finding this out now?” Erik demanded.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know, but maybe you will find some answers in the private letters she wrote to each of you. You are under strict instructions not to open them until you are back in your own homes.”

  Erik flung his hands up in the air. “Who’s to stop us from opening them when we get back to the marina…or now, for that matter?”

  Hatfield fiddled with his ascot and cleared his throat. “Well, no one. Those are my instructions for you from your aunt. All I can do is plead with you to follow them.” He glanced down at the paper he held in his other hand and continued reading. “The dispersal of property, holdings, and monies is straightforward. This island and home, the property and dwelling in Hawaii, and all monies and assets will be split equally between the four siblings. A trust has been set up to pay taxes and upkeep on both properties.”

  Fallon frowned, attempting to process the words Hatfield had just spoken. Property in Hawaii? Monies? A trust? She glanced at the others, noting they all appeared just as stunned as she felt.

  The lawyer cleared his throat again. “There is one more thing.”

  Amber let out a groan. “Oh, dear Lord, now what?”

  “You
r aunt left a video.” He picked up a remote from the desk, aimed it toward the television in the corner of the room, and pressed a button. A moment later, the screen filled with a thin, gray-haired woman with piercing green eyes.

  “Ah, my children. I hope you all have made it, and I apologize for the way you have all met. In time, you will realize I did what I had to do when your parents were killed.”

  The woman’s gaze shifted, and Fallon sensed she wasn’t being completely forthcoming. Unease settled heavy in her stomach. She’d just learned she had three siblings whom, until a few minutes ago, she’d never known existed. How many more secrets could there be?

  Aunt Serida swallowed and returned her focus to the camera. “Separating the four of you was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but it was imperative in order to keep you all safe. I want you to know your mother, father, and I all loved you very much. Fate may have taken them away from you before you could know them, but I have a feeling that will change. Not even death will divide you from your mother forever.”

  Fallon frowned. What did she mean by that?

  “I have followed all of you throughout the years and can say without a shadow of a doubt your parents would be so proud of the men and women you have become. Without knowing, you have fallen into the paths you were destined to walk. You are the guardians, and soon you will all be going through a bit of a change.” She flitted her hand toward the camera. “I’ve explained all this in your letters, but please do me the favor of opening them in private.”

  She sighed, her eyes darkening. “I wish to the heavens I could have protected you longer, but what protection I did provide for you will be fading fast. Your destinies are powerful and important to all, so help each other. You will all need to come together to fight the powerful evil that waits to destroy you. Use your resources and allies, for it will be a hard-fought battle, but you, my loves, are strongest together and will overcome those elements that wish you harm. This, I believe with all my heart.”

  Aunt Serida’s lips quavered into a tremulous smile just before the screen darkened. Hatfield shut off the television and, snatching up a handful of envelopes from his desk, scurried to hand them out. “There is an envelope and a box for each of you. One, you may open whenever you choose, and one is to be opened after you have left Sentinel Harbor[SENP1]. Well, except for you, Mr. Boudreaux. You may open yours once your siblings have all departed. They are marked accordingly.”

  Fallon stared at the items in her hand, trying to absorb what she’d learned and the cryptic message from her aunt. She wanted to believe the woman was certifiable and disregard what she’d said, but too much had happened lately for her to simply write off the woman’s words to insanity. But, really, it all sounded like nonsense. What kind of danger were they in?

  Wyatt stood. “Well, this has been enlightening, to say the least.” Fist clenched around the envelope and small box, he strode across the room and shook the attorney’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Hatfield. You’ve left a lot for my brother and sisters and me to talk about.” He spun on his heel to face the rest of them. “I don’t know about you guys, but I need to get the hell out of here. Now.”

  Three strides and he’d exited the room.

  Fallon collected her sweater, glanced at Erik, who nodded, then reached over for Amber’s hand. “Ready?”

  Her sister stood with her. “More than ready.”

  They made their way back to the dock in silence, boarded the yacht, and took their respective seats. No one said a word until they were almost back to Sentinel Harbor.

  Wyatt turned from the railing where he’d been standing. “I know Amber is leaving tomorrow. I assume you two are as well.”

  Fallon’s heart clenched at the thought of leaving, too many emotions rolling together. She had two brothers and a sister she didn’t know one iota about, but she already felt a strong connection to them. How could she leave without getting to know them?

  “I feel the same way,” Erik’s voice sounded in her head.

  Amber stared at them with wide, imploring eyes. “Can we at least have dinner together, spend some of the remaining hours getting to know each other a little bit? I hate this. I’ve always felt so alone, and up until last night when I met Wyatt, I had no one to talk to. I don’t want to lose you guys now that I’ve finally found you.”

  Fallon took her sister’s hand. “Oh, honey, we won’t let distance keep us from getting together and being a family.”

  “Why don’t we go to my house?” Wyatt said, moving to sit next to her. “We can have a good, old-fashioned New England lobster bake and talk over all this crap we just learned without worrying about gossips listening in.”

  As the boat eased up to the dock, Erik stood. “Excellent idea. I, for one, could use a good meal, a couple of ice-cold beers, and the time to spend with family.”

  They waited for the captain to tie off the yacht and give the all clear before disembarking. Erik and Wyatt were last to step off the boat, joining Amber and Fallon on the dock.

  Behind them, the captain called, “Um, excuse me, but what shall I do with the vessel?”

  “I don’t understand,” Wyatt said.

  “Well, Mr. Boudreaux, the Sentinel Lady belongs to you and your siblings now. Your aunt left enough money in trust for its upkeep and my services. I can either take it back to its slip in the marina, or if you wish, I can take it out of the water for storage.”

  Wyatt faced them, indecision written across his face.

  Fallon spoke up. “Why don’t you take it back to the slip? We’ll be back to visit, and Mr. Boudreaux will be using it from time to time. He can give you a call later. Is that okay?”

  The captain’s eyes lit up. “Very well, ma’am. A good evening to you all.”

  Wyatt gave Erik directions to his house. “Why don’t you check out of the motel? I’ve got plenty of room for all of you to spend the night. You can leave for the airport from there.”

  “You sure you don’t mind us all being there?” Erik asked.

  “Absolutely.” He took Amber’s hand and headed across the gravel lot. “Gotta run to the store. We’ll meet up after.”

  “Sounds good,” Fallon and Erik said at the same time.

  Three hours later, she sat at Wyatt’s dining table, polishing off the last of her lobster, clams, corn on the cob, and boiled red potatoes. Where she’d found the place to stuff it all, she had no idea. Laying her napkin next to her plate, she said, “Wyatt, this is the best meal I’ve had in ages. And I own a restaurant, so that’s saying something.”

  “Thanks.” He rose and scooped up his plate and Erik’s.

  Fallon stood. “Might have to add it to my menu. If you don’t mind.”

  “Don’t mind at all.” He laughed. “It’s a typical New England lobster bake.”

  She reached for her plate, but Amber grabbed it before she could.

  For a moment, their gazes met, and Fallon experienced a connection, a deep rapport similar to what she’d encountered with Erik. She stared into Amber’s golden eyes and spied a swirl of uncertainty. Or was it self-doubt?

  “I’ve got it,” she said, her voice soft. She peered down at the plate they both held. “Really.”

  Fallon released her grip. “Sure.”

  “We should all share our emails and cell numbers, so we can keep in touch. Don’t you think?” She stacked the plate on top of her own.

  “That’s a great idea since we’re leaving tomorrow.” Fallon glanced at her newfound siblings. “Now that we know about each other, we should get to know one another.”

  Amber turned toward the kitchen and scurried through the doorway, her head bent over the dirty dishes she carried. Fallon bit her lower lip. That girl was hurting—which explained why Wyatt had been so protective. He’d probably sensed the same thing. Fallon’s heart ached for the sister she’d only just discovered, and a tender affection swelled deep inside her. She would definitely keep in contact with Amber.

  “Hope you left room for d
essert.” Wyatt entered the dining room, an enormous cake in his hands.

  “Wow,” Fallon said. “That looks awesome.”

  “Black Forest.” He set the decadent confection on the table.

  Amber trailed behind him, carrying a tray of coffee, cups, and plates. Erik stood and reached to clear an area on the table.

  “It’s from a local bakery,” Wyatt said and set about slicing the cake.

  Amber served coffee while Wyatt scooped slabs of dessert onto plates and handed them out. Fallon stared at the dark, velvety layers with creamy icing swathed in between. Chocolate shavings dotted the white frosting, and a copious mount of cherry filling slipped from the top to flow onto her plate. Her mouth watered, but where was she supposed to put all this? She lifted her fork, resolute in not offending her host.

  “Oh my God,” Erik mumbled around an enormous bite.

  “I know.” Wyatt grinned and shoved a similar sized portion into his mouth.

  Unable to resist the deliciously compelling scents any longer, Fallon tasted the cake, though she was more reasonable about the quantity she inserted into her mouth. Rich chocolate blanketed her tongue while tart cherries danced along her taste buds. She closed her eyes, the delectable flavors eliciting a moan from the depths of her culinary soul.

  “You can give all compliments on tonight’s dessert to Amber,” Wyatt said. “She spotted it in the bakery window.”

  A bright red tint stained her sister’s cheeks while she sipped her coffee. “Why don’t we open the gifts our Aunt Serida left us?”

  “Great idea.” Fallon rushed to the living room where everyone had left their tightly wrapped boxes on the coffee table. Returning, she handed each to its proper owner.

  Together, they removed the brown paper and set it aside. Fallon glanced around the table, noting each of her siblings held a similar hinged box but in different colors.

  “Who’s first?” Fallon said. “Amber, why don’t you do the honors?”

  She glanced up with large eyes and, without further prompting, picked up the white box and opened the lid. Her brow furrowed.

 

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