The envelope was at the bottom of the pile, her heart leaped as she read the address. ‘Mr. Raymond Petersen’…It was their home address. She frowned. Who the hell was Raymond Petersen?
She pulled out the letter and unfolded it. It was a thick, heavy, cream paper, good quality and at the top, the header was in an elaborate cursive: William Corcoran & Associates, Family Attorneys. New Orleans, she noted as she read the note.
Raymond,
I have tried to contact you numerous times since we last met. If you don’t call me by Friday, I shall be forced to come to Seattle to see you. I will also place a hold on your father’s estate until such time as you inform that you have contacted me and your brother.
I hope these measures will not necessary.
William
Raymond Petersen? Brother? All the breath was knocked from her lungs, her legs trembled and she gripped the wall to steady herself. Surely Dan hadn’t lied about who he was, on top of everything else…no, no, please.
She moaned then shook herself. Think. A lawyer. A connection to Danny’s past. Sarah dug in the trunk and found a pen, scribbling the lawyer’s name and number down on her palm. She would call him, get this straightened out.
She opened another trunk. More yearbooks and as she pulled them out, a stack of photographs fell into her lap. She looked through them. At first, they seemed to be normal family photos then she realized…Dan wasn’t in any of them. They were all of her – and most of them had obviously been taken without her knowledge.
Sarah felt her skin start to prickle. ‘You fucking creep, Raymond.’ At that moment any residual love for Dan left her; all that was left now was a burning hatred. Who the hell was this man that she’d lived and loved and slept with all those years?
The last photo was hidden inside a notebook. The notebook was blank except for two words: Sarah – when? She frowned at that then turned her attention to the photo. She was wearing an old t-shirt, jeans, hair was down, flying around her face and she was laughing at something just out of the picture but her face looked a lot younger, fuller. An innocuous shot. Another photo she hadn’t known was being taken. She squinted at it, trying to remember where she had been that day. It wasn’t on the island, she could see that but…she shook her head. She squinted at the background…something so familiar and yet…she sighed in frustration, shoved the picture into her pocket. She didn’t know how long she studied the photos – moments of her life stolen.
Then, a thump from downstairs. She froze. Another thump. Her stomach lurched. It could be a branch, it could be a branch hitting the outside of the house. She steadied her breath, trying to remain calm. She went to the window, peering out into the gloom of the early evening, expecting to see the trees bending and swaying. But the evening was still. Nothing. A door slammed and the house shook with the impact. The fear was a stabbing knife in her gut. She crept to the top of the stairs and paused, listening.
Someone was in the house.
***
Isaac stared out of the ferry boat’s window. The skies were dark, the water choppy. He loved his hometown but damn – he needed to get away. He wondered if he could persuade Sarah to go away with him – it wasn’t like she didn’t need the break too but would she leave Molly again so soon after her attack? Selfishly, he wished she’d get someone in to run the business for her; then he remonstrated with himself. What are you, a caveman?
He thought about that night after Sarah had called him to say they needed to talk. After he’d brought her home from the police station, they had sat at her kitchen table, drinking scotch from china mugs and talking.
‘Why did you hide what happened to Molly from me?’ Her earlier anger had dissipated and now she was merely curious. Isaac sighed, running a hand through his short dark curls.
‘It was a clumsy move at protecting you. Finn had told me that you had some depression after…well...because of what happened when you were a kid. Both he and I thought, especially after George, that this was something that could wait.’
Sarah stared out of the window for a long moment. ‘You know, that wasn’t either yours or Finn’s decision to make.’
Isaac nodded. ‘I do know and I’m sorry.’
‘I need to feel I have agency in my own life,’ she said, ‘no, scratch that, I do have agency in my own life. I spent years thinking I wasn’t able to make my own decisions – Dan was partially responsible for that. So, no, as much as I love you, you don’t get to make those kind of decisions for me.’
Isaac put his hands up. ‘I’m right there with you.’
Sarah visibly relaxed then rubbed her eyes. ‘Man, what a day. Too many of these kind of days lately.' She got up and went to him and he pulled her onto his lap, burying his face in her hair. She wound her arms around his neck. ‘We’re good, though, right?’
He bunched her hair in his fist and kissed her deeply. ‘Always.’
She nuzzled his ear. ‘Take me to bed, Isaac Quinn…’
***
He had watched them as they slowly stripped each other’s clothes off. Even the dim lighting of the bedroom, he could still see the way she looked up at Quinn as if she could see nothing else, her eyes shining, besotted, almost drunk with desire. Quinn dropped to his knees and buried his face in her belly, lifting her leg over his shoulder as he moved down, kissing down until his mouth found her sex. Sarah’s head fell back as she gasped at his tongue lashing around her clit, sweeping along the soft, peachy cleft.
He could Quinn, his large cock ramrod straight against his stomach, sweep her onto the bed, pushing her legs apart. He watched her smiling up at him, spreading her legs for him, begging him to fill her cunt. As Quinn thrust hard into her, she cried out and the sound made the watcher hard, too hard, uncomfortable. He began to jerk off, silently, stifling his cries, never taking his eyes from the beautiful woman on the bed. Soon, she would be dead and he’d never see her like this again.
He had come hard, spasming and vibrating, hot, silent tears to rage and desire coursing down his face.
***
Sarah climbed down the ladder to the attic onto the upstairs hallway and stood, listening. In her hand, the tire iron she’d used to open the trunks. Her hand gripped it tightly, but her hands were clammy from fear. For a second she wondered if she had imagined it but then she heard a chair shift, footsteps into the hallway below her. She peered over the rail. A figure stood beneath her, his large build entirely dressed in black She backed up, terror screeching through her now. Straining to hear, she realized he was talking to himself and she peeked over the stair rail. He had a hood pulled up over his head. For long moments, all was silent and still then suddenly the man let out a roar, a scream of such ferocity and rage that the house reverberated with it.
Shocked, terrified, Sarah gasped. His head shot up and turned towards the stairs Sarah backed off, turned and ran. She could hear his footsteps behind her, pursuing, hunting. In her panic, she skidded along the wooden floors, desperate for a hiding place. She whimpered with relief as she skittered into the last room – the guest bathroom and locked it. She darted into the room, looking around desperately as he began to slam his body against the door. She shoved up the window but the drop was a long way down, she’d break her legs if she tried to jump. She left the window open, though, hoping he’d think she’d gone out that way. Thankful for once for her small stature, she climbed into her laundry bin, trying to calm her breathing, terror screeching through her body. If he cornered her in here, alone, unprotected and unobserved, he could kill her, hide her body and get away before anyone found her. If anyone ever found her. She felt the desperate urge to scream but she clamped her hands over her mouth as the door to the bathroom opened.
Seconds stretched into years. She could hear him breathing. He came closer.
After a minute, she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but she couldn’t hear his breathing in the room anymore. She braved opening the lid to the basket a crack and peeking out. The bathroom was empty. Listeni
ng, she could hear him moving around along the corridor. He was in the bedroom. She climbed out of the basket and padded carefully along the hallway. She crept down the stairs and was about to open the front door when she heard him burst from the room. ‘Fucking, fucking bitch!’
She wrenched open the door and ran.
***
‘Vampira’s here.’ Molly nodded over to Caroline. Finn nodded. Caroline sat at a table at the far end of the coffee house. The rest of the place was empty. It had been a week since he’d walked out on her and seeing her now, he knew he’d made the right decision.
‘So I see. Can you grab me a coffee?’
‘Of course, bro. I’ll bring over some fresh blood for the vamp.’ Molly stuck her tongue in her cheek and grinned at him.
He walked over and sat down at Caroline’s table. She smirked at him.
‘See you’re busy at work, officer.’
Their detente hadn’t lasted. For weeks now they had been sniping at each other and now Finn had reached his limit. He wanted out. For good.
He’d spent the last couple of nights sleeping on Molly’s couch, after long talks with his sister, lasting into the night. She’d even brought him coffee past midnight when he was alone, working a night shift at the station.
He’d looked up as his sister came into the office. Molly raised the coffee cup, her expression both irritated and amused.
‘Your order, my lord. I hath come as thee summoned…me.’ She gave up with a shrug and a smile. ‘What do you want? I had to sneak out while Mike’s making like a walrus on the couch. It’s quite a sight, his yawns. Sometimes I throw grapes, trying to get them in.’
Finn grinned. ‘How’d that work out for you?’
‘Once I hit his eye, the other time I got it in his mouth and nearly choked him. He was pretty pissed but I figure, hey, at least I scored twice.’
‘Sounds like your sex life in college.’
‘Oh ha ha ha, comedy king, and eww, dude, I’m your sister.’ She glanced at his empty desk. ‘What did you really want?’
Finn hesitated. ‘I gotta tell you, sis, I’m thinking of quitting. No, seriously.’ He added as she rolled her eyes.
‘I hear this, what, every six months? You’ll never quit.’
‘Aren’t you gonna give me the whole It’s in your blood speech?’ Finn looked disappointed and she grinned.
‘Anyways, ‘ he added. ‘this time, it’s different.’
His sister raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh yes? You finally going to make some changes, get divorced, meet someone…human?’
Finn chewed on his lip and didn’t reply. Molly didn’t yet know about the baby. If she did…god, he didn’t want to think about that. He knew how she would react – horror that Caroline had trapped him.
She squinted at him. ‘Well?’ He shrugged and she sighed. ‘Yep, I thought so. Pucarck.’
‘What is “pucarck”?’
‘It’s a chicken noise.’
‘Chickens go “bok bok”. Not “pucarck”. And I’m not chicken. I’m respectful of the sanctity of marriage.’
Molly snorted. ‘Firstly, it doesn’t count when you’re married to a Ring Wraith and secondly – that’ll really get the girls hot “Oh Finn, respect me, respect me hard, respect me real good!”’
‘I’m really not comfortable with those words coming out of your mouth.’ He laughed but then sighed and tilted his chair back, leaning against the wall. ‘I don’t know, sis…’
Molly growled. ‘For the love of God, Finn, doesn’t this drive you crazy? This constant…God, I don’t even know what to call it. Everything, everything is telling you to leave Caroline. She makes you miserable. That doesn’t even begin to cover it. I want you to be happy, to find the one person who brings you joy. Stop fooling around. Do something. The one thing I will say is this: you won’t find her while you’re still married to, or at least living with, Count Slutula. She’s changed you, written her spite and her hurt all over you. So before anything else, you have to decide what to do. You, no-one else. And soon.’
Finn nodded. ‘Yeah. You’re right.’ He sniggered. ‘Count Slutula?’
Molly grinned wickedly and Finn laughed. He drained his coffee then looked at his sister suspiciously.
‘When did you get so smart?’
‘Around about the time I was born. They had a lot of brains left over from you.’
‘Funny.’
Molly grinned at him but her eyes were serious. ‘You have nothing to lose, Finn. Nothing.
Now he sat opposite his smirking, hateful wife of five years and saw nothing in her he could ever love again. Nothing.
Finn stared at her in dislike. ‘What do you want Caroline?’
‘Isn’t this more about what you want, Finn?’
He sighed. ‘Yes. Let’s not drag this out. I want a divorce. You can’t be surprised.’
‘No.’ But she was smiling. She lit a cigarette. Molly walked past and snatched it away from her.
‘No smoking, are you an idiot?’
Caroline shrugged and sipped her coffee. ‘Well, one good thing about getting a divorce would be never having to see you again, you bitch.’
‘The feeling’s entirely mutual.’
Caroline stood up and reached past Molly to grab a cupcake from the stand. ‘When are you going to get a life, Molly, instead of acting as pimp-in-chief to my husband?’
Molly groaned. ‘At some point, this relentless bitchery must surely get exhausting for you.’ She brushed past Caroline, a little too hard but Caroline just stayed smiling. ‘Why are you so happy anyway? I mean, apart from making my brother’s life miserable, that is.’
‘Molly.’ Finn shook his head at his sister.
Caroline laughed. ‘I am happy and you know what? Do you sell champagne in this pissant little hole?’
Molly looked confused. ‘What?’
‘Shut up, Caroline.’ Finn hissed the words, his gaze locked on his wife.
Caroline looked between the two siblings and started to laugh. ‘Oh my god, she doesn’t know, does she?’
Molly scowled at her. ‘Know what? Finn?’
Finn buried his head in his hands as Caroline crowed triumphantly.
‘We need to celebrate, my husband and I. We’re going to have a baby.’
***
Sarah didn’t think, she suddenly was sprinting, racing towards her truck. She didn’t make it. He grabbed the back of her neck, smashed her head against the window on the driver’s side. Stunned, Sarah twisted, trying to escape his grip but he was too strong. He flung her to the ground and threw his entire body weight on top of her, pressing her face down into the dirt, his knee on the small of her back.
This is it. This is the end. Sarah struggled against him, adrenalin coursing through her veins but she had no chance against his bulk. Her attacker laughed and she felt his fingers on her neck. ‘Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. You’re a clever girl, you know. I want you to give your fucking billionaire a message, baby girl. Tell him I’m going to teach him about loss. Tell him I’m going to teach him the meaning of pain.’ His voice was course, rough, and hands tightened around her throat, his fingernails digging and she choked. His smiled faded, his eyes went blank. ‘I’m going to kill you, Sarah, you know that now, don’t you? And when I do, I will do it so slowly that you feel every inch of my knife cutting through you, every drop of your blood spilling out, every last breath dragged from your lungs. ‘ She felt the tip of the knife pressed harder into her body as he laughed softly. ‘Enjoy the time you have left. The only reason I’m not killing you tonight, right now, right here, is that I’m going to make sure your bastard lover is watching when you die. Then I’m going to kill him too. Slowly. So, make the most of the time you have left, baby girl, it isn’t long. Until then…’
And he brought the hilt of the knife down hard on her head and everything went dark.
***
Isaac Quinn had back-to-back meetings – his own design – to make up for the work he had handed off
to Saul these last three months. To all outward appearances, he seemed engaged, alert but his brain was working overtime. Daniel Bailey, supposedly dead or missing, was screwing Caroline Jewell. Was Caroline the reason he was back in Seattle and hadn’t contacted Sarah? In his mind, Isaac had painted Dan as a menacing force but maybe he was just a coward. Maybe he didn’t want to face the questions. Sarah had told him she suspected Dan was having an affair before he went missing. Caroline was the obvious suspect and Stan’s investigations proved she was indeed Bailey’s mistress. He couldn’t help the feeling of relief he felt.
But then who had killed George? Buddy Harte, the shipwright? If the killer was, as the police thought, the same person killing young Asian-American women, why hadn’t he simply murdered Sarah, instead of those around her? Isaac winced at the thought.
When he went back to his office, just after eight, his assistant Maggie told him, to his relief, that his final meeting was canceled.
‘Maggie, it’s late, go home. You already do more than enough. Take tomorrow off on me.’
Maggie smiled and thanked him. After she’d gone, Isaac called Sarah’s cell. It went to voicemail but he knew she was due to go into work that evening to do a stock take with Molly.
He had no idea whether he should speak to Finn, tell him about Caroline’s infidelity. It would open up a can of worms, that was for sure.
And he couldn’t tell Sarah either. She was so fiery, and loathed Caroline and loved Finn in such equal measure that she would undoubtedly go straight to Finn – if she didn’t kill Caroline first.
No, I’m sorry, baby. This is one secret I have to keep. Until Dan Bailey made himself known to her – if ever – then he might decide differently. Isaac was satisfied he made the right decision.
Quartet Complete Series: Billionaire Romance Box Set (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) Page 146
