“Nothing,” he lied.
“I don’t believe you. You can tell me, Bryce. You can tell me anything.”
He’d never told another soul, not even Grania. But maybe it was time. Maybe he had to tell Hailey. Otherwise she would never believe him, would never let him do what he had to.
“I took a break from summer school, came home that weekend to go to a friend’s birthday party. Mom asked me if I would go somewhere with her that night…not that she explained where she was going or what she was doing or why it was so important. She was being so mysterious, just saying there was something important she had to do—someone she had to see—and that she didn’t want to go alone.”
“But you wanted to go to the party.”
He nodded. “That’s why I came home. I wanted to be with all my friends. I asked her if we could do what she wanted the next day instead.”
He’d done so despite the weird feeling he’d gotten inside—a warning, although he hadn’t known it then.
“And she said yes,” Hailey guessed.
“Of course. She told me it could wait, that I should go ahead and have a good time.”
And he had.
His mistake.
If only he’d gone with her instead…
Hailey continued, “And then you never saw her again.”
“No one ever saw her again. It was like Mom drove off into the rain and simply vanished. It was a night like this one,” he said, turning back to the windows. The next strike of lightning lit the opposite shore and he got a brief glimpse of Widow’s Peak. He walked away from the view, went to pour himself a drink. “It was Sheelin O’Keefe’s prophecy come true, Hailey. Dad never got over it. And neither did I.”
“I know how hard it is to lose someone you love. My mom’s still alive, but she walked out of Danny’s and my life. And our father walked out on us when we were just kids. They’re still alive, but we lost them. I know I never got over that either.”
“I can feel the curse inside me, Hailey. I felt it when my mother agreed to let me go to that party. Something told me not to…and I ignored it. I’ve felt it ever since…. I can’t be responsible for another loss.”
“What are you saying?”
“That I release you from our agreement. I’ll start divorce proceedings tomorrow.”
“Bryce, that’s not necessary. It’ll kill your deal with Croft.”
“And if Croft is the one trying to hurt you? I brought him into your life!”
She took a big breath and shrugged. “What if he’s not guilty? You’re not to blame for anything. If Iceman came at me, that’s on Danny. He put that in motion before our bargain.”
“I can’t take that chance. I want you to be safe, Hailey. You’re not. I can feel it every time I’m around you. I won’t lose you, too.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing by sending me away?”
“At least you’ll be alive. You might feel the loss of your parents, Hailey, but they’re not dead. You have the possibility of seeing them again someday.”
“And will I have the possibility of seeing you again?”
Bryce clenched his jaw and didn’t answer. Under other circumstances he would fight to keep her. But with her well-being…no, with her life in the balance, he would fight anyone to keep her safe.
Even Hailey herself.
For a moment, Hailey couldn’t hide her stricken expression. Then she straightened up and put on her neutral mask. For a moment, he thought she was going to say something to extend the argument. But in the end she shook her head sadly and left the room to take refuge in her lower-level suite.
Then the whole truth hit him hard, and he had to fight himself not to go after her. Even though he’d been denying it to himself, he had fallen in love with his wife and had acted on it.
Her leaving wouldn’t make a difference.
He’d already put her in mortal danger.
Chapter Fourteen
Rejected again.
Hailey stood at the outside door to her suite and stared through the window into the rain. Her wounded arm aching, she took one of the prescription painkillers. She threw herself onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling for a long time. Her mind rolled over and over her situation.
How had this happened to her?
How could she have fallen in love with a man who’d married her as a business asset?
It wasn’t like Bryce hadn’t been honest from the beginning. He’d told her straight out that business was the only reason he would marry, that he considered her an asset. She’d thought she would be okay with that—anything to get her brother through one more crisis—but she simply wasn’t okay. She’d let her feelings get the better of her, and the night before, in the wave pool, she’d thought Bryce had as well.
Then she’d realized how wrong she’d been. He hadn’t felt anything for her, at least not in the way she’d hoped. She’d thought he’d simply been all about the money, but she was no longer convinced it was that simple. He wanted success, obviously, but now she wondered if it wasn’t a matter of substituting his business for the family he’d vowed never to have. Considering the burden of guilt he’d taken on himself over his mother, she couldn’t really fault him.
And now guilt was making him shove her out of his life. Finding those articles about his mother’s disappearance in Violet’s scrapbook had brought that guilt to the fore, and all it took was the incident at the hunt club to make him believe that he was responsible for her life as well. Perhaps she should be flattered or grateful that he cared enough to want her to be safe, but surely there was another way to do that and find some personal happiness.
Closing her eyes, she listened to the rain drum against the house. A sharp crack and a loud crash was followed by a threatening rumble. Lightning had struck nearby, probably felling a tree.
Was this the kind of storm that Alice McKenna had braved alone, despite her wanting her son to go with her? Had she driven to Widow’s Peak to speak to Violet? Why? What had happened that fate-filled night?
Had James Croft broken into Widow’s Peak only to be faced with a witness? Had he killed Alice? Alone?
Or had Mike Anderson helped him?
Where was Alice McKenna’s final resting place?
The questions circled around and around in her mind until she thought she would lose it if she didn’t get the answers. And there was only one way she knew how to get them. Like Alice before her, she wished for Bryce’s company—or was it protection?—but knew she couldn’t tell him what she was going to do or he would stop her.
She was on her own.
The bedside clock told her it was early yet—she could still hear Bryce pacing overhead. How soon would it be before he went up to his room?
How soon before she could leave the house without his knowing?
Fetching her cell phone, she tried Danny’s number but he wasn’t answering. The call went straight to voice mail. That worried her a bit, made her wonder if Iceman had gotten to him. Remembering seeing her brother at that out-of-the-way house that afternoon, she hoped she wasn’t too late warning him.
“Danny, I had another close call today at the Grainger Hunt Club. I’m okay, just a flesh wound,” she assured him. “The thing is, we think Iceman might have been responsible. For the river, too. Please be careful. Don’t let him talk you into anything. Love you. Talk to you tomorrow.”
She clicked Off, set her cell phone alarm, then closed her eyes and let herself drift…
Waking up after midnight, she listened intently. No sounds above. Hopefully Bryce was up in his suite on the second floor. She got up, washed her face, changed into a sweater that wasn’t decorated with her blood and found a light slicker in the closet. The rain had stopped. For now.
Carefully, she opened the outside door and slipped out into the damp. It was as if the night were holding its breath. She held hers, too, as she climbed the hill to the driveway, checked to see that Bryce’s bedroom light was off, then got into her car. Quickl
y starting it, she backed up far enough to turn it around and head out.
The road around the lake was still wet and slowed her down. It felt like it took forever to get to Widow’s Peak, although the clock in the car told her it had been only twenty minutes. Her thoughts were of Bryce as she pulled in the empty drive and got out, flashlight in hand. Would she learn what had really happened to his mother all those years ago. And why?
The house stood dark and forbidding. Her pulse accelerated. Lightning cracked behind it over the lake, giving her the weirdest sensation that the house was rushing toward her.
The breath caught in her throat and she took a step back to regroup.
“It’s only a house. No one home. Nothing to fear.”
Steeling herself, Hailey headed for the front door, but one step on the porch and she froze in her tracks. What was it about this spot that made her blood run cold? Darkness enfolded her in its frightening grasp, and even though she wanted to move, to put the key in the door, something was holding her to the spot. Again. What was it?
She looked around the dark, half expecting to see the woman who’d died here. Half expecting to see Alice McKenna. No ghosts tonight, at least not yet.
Trying again, she took a step toward the door when something pushed at her—invisible hands?—making her move to the left. The pressure didn’t let up until she practically stood on the antique cast iron bootscraper. Sensing she was meant to take a closer look, she crouched down and reached out to pick it up by the figure of the dog on top. The moment her fingers touched the object, a horrible vision blossomed in her mind Alice McKenna screamed in terror and the heavy bootscraper crashed down on her forehead, silencing her forever.
Hailey flew back against the porch rail and her heart thumped double time.
Staring at the innocent-looking antique, Hailey knew she’d just identified the murder weapon.
HAVING just fallen asleep, Bryce didn’t want to awaken when the sound of an engine starting shattered the silence. He fought it as long as he could, tried to tell himself that he was merely dreaming when a vehicle pulling away from the house made him surface despite himself.
Bryce stumbled in the bathroom, relieved himself, then flushed his face with cool water, but he couldn’t put the sound he’d heard out of his mind. Had he been dreaming or not?
Going to the window that overlooked the drive, he focused his bleary eyes. Only one vehicle sat outside the garage. His SUV.
Hailey’s car was gone.
“What the hell?”
Bryce left the room and made his way down the stairs.
Had she actually packed up and left to go to her place in the middle of the night? And why not after he’d told her he was breaking their agreement, that he would file for divorce the very next day?
He hurried through the long kitchen and the hall, veering away from the family room to take the stairs down to Hailey’s suite.
She, of course, was gone, but her things were still there. She hadn’t packed to go home. She’d simply left. Maybe she’d send Danny to get her things in the morning.
Curiously defeated, Bryce climbed the stairs to the family room and crossed to the windows, stared out at the lake. How the hell was he supposed to go back to sleep now, with guilt nagging at him. He’d started this marriage-of-convenience business. He’d put Hailey in danger. Who could have predicted the situation that had thrown them together would have such lasting consequences. Such emotional baggage.
He’d been the one who’d said it was over, and yet he already missed Hailey.
He was damned if he let her go…she was damned if he didn’t.
The torturous feeling had returned. A warning?
Just as he thought it, several strikes of lightning hit a single area on the other side of the lake and he hurt with the knowledge of where Hailey had gone and why.
Moving fast, he hurriedly retraced his steps back to his own bedroom, where he wasted no time in dressing.
He would have to get himself to Widow’s Peak so that he could bring Hailey back before she got herself into more trouble. She had a head start, though, twenty minutes or more now. That meant she was already there.
He had to get to her and fast.
Which meant, rather than going out to the drive for his SUV, he went out a lakeside door and hurried down the bluff to the dock.
The fastest way to get to Widow’s Peak being straight across the lake.
ONCE inside the house, Hailey forced away the vision she’d had of the murder. She stood in the foyer for a moment, wondering if she should go back to the scrapbook or if there was anything else for her to learn there.
Compelled to go to Violet’s room, she followed her instincts straight up the staircase. Before she even got to the door, the late owner’s scent teased and surrounded her, and once more she felt as if she were being pushed to the desk, where she turned on a lamp and sat. Finally, she would finish what she’d started last Sunday. She would learn what Violet had wanted her to see when Mike had cut short her initial exploration of the house.
“Violet, I know you’re here.” Slowly she opened the middle drawer while tuning in to her surroundings. “What is it you wanted me to find?”
Compelled to search the drawer, she touched everything—a lace-edged handkerchief…an old-fashioned pen…an address book—but nothing spoke to her.
“C’mon, Violet, give me a clue here.”
Something made her shove her hand all the way to the back of the drawer. Her fingers bumped something small and hard, and when she pulled it free, she thought she was looking at a pillbox. The moment she picked it up, she imagined a whispered yes.
Her heart raced as she stared at the box, enameled gold with a large violet-colored stone in the top. Was this the treasure that Mike had been seeking these last weeks. Had Violet somehow protected it from being discovered?
Opening the box, she stared at the contents. Not a pill but a tiny gold ring of a similar size and studded with a garnet chip. The second she picked up the ring, it came to her: the photograph of Alice McKenna in the article about her disappearance. Alice had been wearing a chain with four of these jewel-studded rings. This was proof that Alice had been here.
“So how did you get this, Violet? Did you find it after Alice was killed on your porch?” There was no longer any question in her mind as to the murdered woman’s identity. “Did you know what happened to Alice?”
Sadness came at her in waves. Hailey sensed Violet’s spirit was right there, mourning with her.
Placing the jeweled ring back in the box, she snapped the lid closed and started to replace it where she’d found it in the drawer. But wait…the proof could disappear just like that, so se slipped the box into her pocket. When she got back to the house, she would give it to Bryce and tell him about the bootscraper. He would know how to handle things.
But before she left the house, she had one more area to check out.
The widow’s walk.
Taking the flashlight from her pocket, Hailey went to investigate. At the top of the stairs, she discovered the rain had stopped. She swept her flashlight around, the beam cutting through fingers of fog that threatened to swallow the platform whole.
“What is it you want me to know, Violet?
She was drawn to the antique bench sheltered by the single wall. Nothing else to investigate up here.
“What am I looking for? Give me a clue.”
She ran her hands along the face of the wood back, looking for some small hiding place. Instinct made her sweep lower. She checked the bench seat, but it was solid and didn’t lift to reveal hidden storage. Crouching, she felt along the intricate carving. All solid. She ran her hands under the bench. Nothing there either.
“Unless you can be more specific, Violet, I give up.”
Despite her threat, she didn’t leave. She had to have missed something. Thinking about the age of the bench, she considered a secret compartment. More carefully this time, she fingered the carving an inch at a
time. A piece just off center moved a hair. Concentrating, she was able to move it a bit more, enough to hear a click. Her heart thudded as a drawer popped open.
Hailey took a big breath and reached inside until her fingers touched something not wood. As lightning cracked overhead, she pulled out a book encased in a clear plastic bag. A light rain drummed along the rooftop and her heartbeat danced along with it.
Hearing the rush of her pulse in her ears, Hailey rose and sat on the bench where she pulled the book free and ran her flashlight beam over the worn leather cover. It opened easily to a page in the middle.
The book was handwritten, a journal of some sort. She checked the inside cover and found the name of the woman who had written it—Mary Ryan—and a dedication: To my daughters Violet and Alice…
BRYCE steered his boat through fog soup that thickened as he approached the southern shore of the lake. Drizzle added to his discomfort. His thoughts had been so concentrated on Hailey that he’d whipped out of the house without a poncho. At least it wasn’t raining as hard as it had been earlier. Still, streaks of lightning punctuated by a rumble of thunder continued to follow him as he sped across the lake on his rescue mission.
Hopefully he’d find Hailey and get her out of there before the rain kicked up once more.
Hopefully she wouldn’t fight him on this.
His gut was giving him a bad feeling, though, and he always trusted his gut. He didn’t know where it was coming from or what it was, but he sensed danger, just as he had the night Hailey had been thrown in the river. Considering she’d been wounded that afternoon, he wasn’t certain she had any fight left in her. Why she’d come out here alone, he couldn’t fathom.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know the reason. Of course she wanted to commune with the spirits, find out what had happened to whom. He wanted to know the answers himself. What if his mother had been here the night she’d disappeared, and what if the Bell mansion wasn’t the first that Croft and Mike had broken into that night? What if the unthinkable had happened at Widow’s Peak and, as if killing an innocent woman hadn’t mattered, the thieves had gone on to their next target?
Deal Breaker Page 14
