by Dawn Brown
Kyle’s mouth twitched. “That’s right. Is there a problem with the lease?”
Eleri snorted, earning another hard glare from the butler.
“No problem,” Warlow said, voice warm as honey. “Would you mind giving us a moment?”
“Not at all.” Kyle’s knowing smirk curled his mouth once more as if guessing how this argument was about to turn out. Hair bristled at the back of Eleri’s neck.
She glared at the butler until the door clicked closed behind her.
“He has to go.” She sank into the chair opposite the desk, leaning an elbow on the arm. For a long moment, silence stretched between them. The only sound was the hiss of the baby monitor and her father’s rattling breaths through the speaker.
Warlow had yet to find a replacement for her father’s nurse and had taken on the duties in the meantime. The role was a good fit, really, since the man rarely left her father’s side. Even before the emphysema.
Warlow drew a deep breath, leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, pressing his palms together as if in prayer. “You’re over reacting.”
Of course she was. Poor high-strung Eleri. And poor rationale Hugh, having to deal with her. She grit her teeth so tight, her jaw ached. “Am I? I can’t think of a worse time to let that property.”
“Was it not you sending out adverts all over the country to lease the space?”
“That was before police pulled twelve bodies from The Devil’s Eye.”
He sighed loudly. “Bodies or not, as you’ve pointed out so many times, the estate needs income. Mr. Peirs contacted me two weeks ago, eager to move into the lodge. Convenient timing, I’d say.”
A little too convenient. “Two weeks? You couldn’t have possibly investigated him thoroughly. And after what happened with Reece…”
She let the words hang. Warlow’s gaze narrowed slightly, barely discernible to the untrained eye.
Direct hit. She bit her lip to keep from smiling.
Eleri had mixed feelings about her sister’s boyfriend. He’d taken a job at the estate while working with the detective determined to see her blamed for murders she hadn’t committed, but he’d also saved Brynn’s life and helped prove Ruth was a killer. Eleri would always be grateful.
Warlow’s feelings about the man were much more straightforward. He was furious.
“Reece was an error in judgement.”
“How will this one be any different?” She nodded at the closed door. “What do you know about him?”
“He’s an author looking to get out of the city while he writes his book.”
At the word author, Eleri stiffened. “How do you know he’s not some sleazy reporter here for a story?”
After all, she’d had experiences with tabloid reporters before. One in particular had coined the phrase The Witch of Stonecliff.
“When I spoke to him over the phone, he told me he writes science fiction.”
“What books has he published?”
“I’ve no idea.”
The admission sent a fresh wave of anger rolling through her. “Of course you don’t. You shouldn’t be making these decisions without consulting me first.”
Something gleamed in his light blue eyes and he smiled. “Your father trusts my judgement.”
Translation: your father doesn’t trust you. He thinks you’re all the things people say.
Witch.
Evil.
Killer.
Tension hummed through her body, frustration radiating from the inside out. She was going to lose this argument. Already she could feel her footing sliding out from under her, as if she were standing at the edge of an embankment, the ground crumbling away beneath her. Still, she had to try to make the man see sense.
“Did you or my father happen to get a look at his neck before entering into this little arrangement? Someone tried to slit his throat. A writer? God knows what kind of trouble the man’s been in with a scar like that and willing to live here.”
Warlow frowned a moment, smile vanishing. “A scar?”
“That’s right. Like this.” Eleri traced the shape over her own throat with her finger.
Warlow shook his head. “He’s a warm body, willing to pay for the space. At this stage, we can’t hope for much better. With everything happening on the estate, who knows how long it could take to find someone suitable.”
“But that’s just it, isn’t it? You don’t know that he’s suitable. You don’t know anything about him, except that he’s a writer. He could be some bloody starving artist. How can you even be certain he’ll pay the rent once he’s in there?”
“He’s agreed to a six month lease. He’s already paid the first three months in advance.”
His words gave her pause. “Three months?”
Warlow leaned back in his chair, smug smile stretching wide across his face. And no wonder. He was aware of how desperate their situation had become. Running the estate took a lot of money and taxes were due at the end of summer. Three month’s rent for the lodge wouldn’t be enough to save them, but it would certainly help.
“You’re absolutely right, I know almost nothing about the man,” he admitted, confirming everything she feared. “But face facts, my dear, we can’t be too choosy, just now. Your father has already approved the lease.”
Defeat weighed heavy on her shoulders, exhaustion chasing away the last of her anger. Her father would always side in favor of the butler. And Warlow knew it, too.
“We need the money,” Warlow said, gentling his voice. “While I hate to bring this up, if the detective has his way, there may be the additional expense of a legal defense.”
Her chest squeezed, but she remained silent when Warlow stood and opened the door.
Kyle leaned against the far wall, arms folded over his chest. His mouth twitched. “All sorted, then?”
“Sorry to have kept you waiting.” Warlow waved Peirs into the seat next to her before lowering himself back into the chair behind the desk. “Miss James had some concerns.”
“I hope your concerns have been alleviated.” Peirs glanced at her owl-eyed, a faint smile pulling at his mouth.
“They have not,” she snapped, drawing a hard scowl from Warlow. The younger man’s grin widened.
“Please forgive Eleri,” Warlow ground out. “She’s under a great deal of pressure just now.”
“Of course,” Peirs said to Warlow, but his gaze remained fixed on her. “Who could blame her for being careful?”
Money or not, letting to this man was a mistake. “So you’ve heard then, about the bodies in the bog? Twelve men.”
He nodded. “I should imagine everyone’s heard.”
The truth in his words iced her blood. Good God, this was so much worse than the last time she’d caught the media’s attention.
She drew in a deep breath, hardening herself against the panic building inside her. “I have to wonder why in the world you’d willingly stay knowing that.”
“I had my eye on Morehead Lodge before your unfortunate discovery, but had some loose ends to tie up first. “ Kyle smiled. “You have the agreement for me to sign?”
Warlow nodded and slid a thin stack of papers toward him. “I believe you’ve already had the chance to review the lease.”
“I have.” He accepted the pen Warlow held out and scribbled his signature on the last page.
Eleri sat next to him, dismissed and forgotten. Dull anger beat behind her forehead. These two men, doing as they pleased, suiting themselves. Warlow after the money and Peirs after the lodge. But it was her life teetering on the edge of ruin.
“You’re a writer, aren’t you?” Eleri asked.
Kyle glanced at her before turning back to initialling the lease. “That’s right. If you’re worried I’m here after a story, you needn’t. I’m a fiction writer.”
“Really? Would I have read anything you’ve written?”
“Unlikely. This has been a recent career change.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Be
fore this career change, what did you do?”
He pushed the signed lease to Warlow. “I was a technical writer for an electronics company. Quite dull, really.”
She didn’t believe a word he said. He was too smug. Too smooth. Too unperturbed by all that was happening around them.
“I can see you’re not convinced,” Kyle said, a light chuckle touching his low, gravelly voice. “Tell you what. Why don’t you come with me, show me the way to the lodge? I’ll tell you everything you’ll ever need to know about me, and hopefully set your mind at ease.”
Eleri nipped at the corner of her mouth, giving his offer serious thought. Not because anything the man could say would sway her opinion, but perhaps something she’d say would sway his. “All right.”
“Excellent idea,” Warlow cut in. “We could all benefit by knowing our tenant better. You’ll no doubt be busy getting settled tonight, but perhaps you’d join us for dinner tomorrow evening?”
For the first time since she’d met him, Kyle’s smug expression fell away, leaving his features blank. Warlow’s offer had caught the man completely off guard. The whole thing might have been funny, had she not suspected her own face looked remarkably similar.
What the hell was Warlow doing? The less they had to do with this man, the better. Yet he was inviting him for a meal? Perhaps he’d forgotten Brynn was away just now, forcing them to eat the housekeeper’s cooking.
She’d add dinner to the list of things to warn Kyle off. After all, he might not get the chance to wind up dead at the bottom of a bog if he succumbed to food poisoning first.
* * *
Kyle stared at the white-haired man behind the desk, not sure how to the respond to his offer. In reality, returning to the main house—invited in, no less—was exactly what he wanted and yet something about this man’s invitation left him uneasy.
Oh bloody hell, who was he fooling? His stomach had been in knots the moment he’d crossed the bridge from the mainland onto the Isle of Anglesey in Northern Wales. His fragmented memories flashed across his brain like a confused silent film.
He was exhausted. Even the light cat and mouse game with Eleri was wearing on him. He needed to get the hell out of there. “Thank you, I’d be happy to.”
Eleri snorted beside him, but Kyle didn’t glance at her, his attention fixed on Hugh Warlow. He’d swear something glinted in the older man’s pale blue gaze. The hair at the back of his neck prickled. Did he know him? Recognize him from before?
Warlow handed him the keys and a copy of the lease. “There is one more thing, and I hope you don’t find me deplorably rude. I couldn’t help but notice your injury.”
Kyle went cold. Absently, almost without control, his fingers moved to the thick ridge of scar tissue peeking out from his collar.
“I was in an accident.” The gravel rasp in his voice seemed more pronounced all of a sudden and a thin line of sweat dribbled between his shoulder blades.
Warlow’s eyes tightened. “Must have been a terrible recovery.”
Months of painful recovery and the black fear he lived with since that day swirled inside his head. “It’s behind me now.”
“Yes, of course. I won’t keep you.” Warlow waved him away, sinking into the chair behind the desk.
Kyle turned from the man, his gaze shifting to Eleri. She’d moved to the door, watching him with narrow-eyed curiosity. The hostility tightening her features had gone. Good God, he must have looked as rattled as he felt.
He forced a grin. “Shall we be off, then?”
Eleri nodded and left the study. Kyle followed her outside, letting out the breath he’d been holding. He’d made it through. Whatever suspicions they had about him weren’t enough to keep them from accepting his money. He hadn’t even really had to lie yet. For all their reservations, they had never thought to ask if he’d ever visited Stonecliff or Cragera Bay before.
But maybe they remembered him and already knew he had.
Chapter Two
“Get in,” Kyle said, yanking open his car’s passenger door. Nervous energy hummed through him, making his skin itch.
Eleri didn’t move, eyeing the opening like a wary animal gauging a potential trap. “You want me in your car?”
“I don’t see how you can show me the way, otherwise,” he told her, forcing a grin while rounding the vehicle to the driver’s side.
Still, she hesitated as if instinctively sensing something about him wasn’t on the up-and-up. The knots tangling his insides squeezed tighter.
“You know what people say about me.”
Oh he knew, all right. Probably better than anyone else. “I’ve heard the rumors.”
He slid behind the wheel, not giving her a chance to argue further, and waited for her to get in.
She slipped into the seat, closed the door behind her with a thunk and positioned herself as far from him as their tight quarters would allow. Hell, he’d have guessed he was the one rumored to kill people if he didn’t know better. Irritation prickled the hair at the back of his neck.
He switched on the engine, shifted gears and started back down the drive toward the road. He glanced at Eleri stuck to the door, gripping the handle with one white-knuckled fist as though she were waiting to spring out of the moving car if need be.
“Be careful, love. You press any harder and you might fall out.”
Eleri scowled. “You ought to be worried about yourself.”
“Me?” He lifted his hand from the gearshift to tug on his seatbelt. “I’m safe and secure.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She shifted to face him. Her mouth stretched into a smile as hard as her glare. “Aren’t you worried about your safety? They pulled twelve bodies from The Devil’s Eye, and you’re alone in the car with the woman who put them there.”
“Is that a confession?”
“No,” she snapped. “That’s what everyone believes. You do realize you’re the ideal victim? A single male, late twenties to early thirties. No attachments. Just like the other men who vanished from this place. You might as well have ‘prey’ written across your forehead.”
Cold settled in the pit of his stomach like an icy brick. Still, he kept that unconcerned smirk in place, his shoulders loose. At least, he hoped he did. “What makes you so sure I’ve no attachments?”
Eleri snorted and turned away to look out the passenger window. “Why would anyone come here if they had somewhere else to be?”
“I have attachments.” He shot her a brief glance before turning his attention to the winding drive through the windscreen and away from her scrutinizing stare.
“Are you married?”
“No, but I have family. Parents. Siblings. People who would look for me if I should up and vanish.”
“Is that a warning? In case my murderous impulses overwhelm me?”
Was it? Maybe. He glanced at her as the car approached the gateposts. This was only the third time he’d seen her, and only the second time up close. He tried to imagine the delicate features of her face pinched tight with effort and concentration. The slender fingers of one hand tangling in his hair, jerking his head back, while the other pressed a cold blade to his throat.
A shudder rippled through him. She watched him, arms folded over her chest, a smug smile pulling at her mouth.
She hadn’t been the one to wield the knife. He knew that for certain. So how did she fit into the murders?
“Which way?” he asked.
“Turn right. The same way you came.”
He nodded and she stayed quiet as he steered down the narrow road, thick woods rising up on either side of them. Despite Eleri’s silence, Kyle could feel her gaze boring into him as she studied him, measured him. Cool sweat sprang to his skin, that all too familiar anxiety beginning to build.
He tightened his hold on the steering wheel and concentrated on drawing deep, even breaths. Once the tension gripping him eased, he forced his stock nonchalant grin and glanced her way. “Am I that lovely to look at?”<
br />
Those black eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon.”
“You’re staring. While I’m flattered, I—”
“Don’t be,” she snapped. “If I told you the rumors were true, would you leave?”
Eleri’s words sent a chill scuttling along his spine.
“No.” Not until he knew for certain. Not until he could prove it. Not until she led him to the others.
“Turn right.” She pointed to a nearly invisible break in the trees.
He slammed his foot on the brake and cranked the wheel. The car’s back end fishtailed as he steered up the drive. Unlike the gravel-covered drive leading to the main house, this one was little more than two narrow ruts cutting through the trees.
Once the spring and summer foliage took root, the pathway could very possibly disappear entirely. It would be swallowed up by the woods, leaving him trapped amongst the trees. The idea left him cold.
The car emerged into a clearing. A dark stone building rose up before him. This house was older than Stonecliff, possibly by a good hundred years. He had no idea how modernized the place was inside; for all he knew he would have to dig a hole in the woods every time he needed to shit.
He stopped the car, and before he could even cut the engine, Eleri had hopped out, slamming the passenger door behind her. He climbed out and followed her to the front door, where she waited for him to unlock it.
Once he pushed open the door, Eleri moved passed him, her rubber boots thudding on the wood floor. She pressed a button on the wall, and the overhead light flared to life. Without a word, she crossed to the room to the right of the stairs and stood in the opening. He sauntered up behind her to what appeared to be the lounge, judging by the settee and chairs set up before the old stone hearth. No telly. Just as well. He had better things to do with his time.
“Someone’s been in to make the house ready for you.” Eleri’s dark stare moved over the furniture. She folded her arms over her chest, lips pressed in a flat line, clearly irritated by her own observation. “I should go.”
“You don’t have to. The least I can do after you graciously guided me here is offer you a brew.”
“Not necessary.” She shifted around him and started for the door.
